


In the Morning

by ponticle



Series: Mass Effect Stories [2]
Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Background Relationships, Boys Kissing, Children, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, F/M, Falling In Love, Family, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Letters, Love, M/M, Naked Cuddling, Porn with Feelings, Post-Coital Cuddling, Romance, Sex, Smut, crew relationships, gil/male ryder non-pathfinder, gil/ryder's twin, scott/gil, some chapters from Gil's perspective in third person, wow there are a lot of cuddling tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-10-22 08:17:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10693125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ponticle/pseuds/ponticle
Summary: A story of two couples: Several months into their relationship, Ryder explores her feelings about love, romance, and Jaal, while her brother, Scott, forges his own alliance with Gil. Sibling dynamics are tested.Variable POV: First Person from Chris Ryder, Third Person Limited from Gil.





	1. Waking Up

* * *

In the morning, he pulls me into his side.

I’ve never been a good sleeper: I toss and turn and tangle myself in the sheets. So by the time it’s morning, I’m hopelessly mixed up, but _that’s_ when he pulls me in. Against his side—curled and tucked—I’m _home_.

“Good morning, Darling One,” he says.

“Good morning,” I mumble back.

He kisses the top of my head and wraps an arm around my back. “I think you were having a nightmare.”

I shrug against the skin of his chest. I probably _was_.

“It’s okay; I’m here with you now.” I pick my head up and look at him.

He smiles—a special sort of smile he reserves only for _me_.

“That you are…” he makes a growling sound in the back of his throat and pulls me on top of him.

I’m getting good at reading him, so I automatically let my legs fall to either side of his hips. He’s already hard and wanting. So am I, for that matter—wet and slick. And I have to ask myself: how can I be _this_ aroused by someone with whom I’ve had sex for months?

 _Because I love him_.

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t always like this… _I remember our first time_...

* * *

 

Trepidation courses through my veins. It’s mixed, of course, with _other things_ —hormones and feeling in equal measure—because _now_ I love him. Now I see the heterogeneous mixture of elements that makes him _him_.

...and he sees me too. Now, in more ways than one—I’m intellectually and spiritually bare as I take my clothes off and walk toward the water. It’s a brave thing to do—to be this transparent—and I learned it from him. _Jaal_ is the bravest person I know. He isn’t afraid to have hard conversations, to say what he feels, to be honest.

I _admire_ him.

As he pins my back to the sand and runs his lips along my chest, realization dawns— _admiration_ is what was missing from every other relationship I’ve ever had. Every past encounter _pales_ in comparison to this.

His skin sparks—electricity pulses from fleck to fleck of pink. It bites and nips my skin where we touch—which is _everywhere_. He drags his lips across the surface of my skin and parts my legs. I’m _shaking_ desperately by the time he licks me. His tongue lathes along my insides and I wonder transiently how _foreign_ this feels to him. Is _this_ how Angarans make love? I’ve never asked.

I _could_ have—that is exactly the kind of question that he would be happy to answer. It’s only my _human_ fear of exposure that keeps me from it. I decide to be bold—after all, it’s what _he_ would do.

“Jaal?” I breathe. My voice surprises me—it’s hoarse, raspy.

He looks up, still massaging the side of my hip. “Yes, Darling One?”

“Is this how you _want_ to be with me?” I ask. Once the words leave my mouth I start to feel nervous—like I’m showing my hand; demonstrating how naive I am; exposing my inexperience.

He tips his head thoughtfully, “Of course—I thought _you_ were quite enjoying yourself…” he smiles and bites his bottom lip.

“I am… I just—didn’t know if this is what you would _normally_ do…” I’m blushing from my cheeks to my chest—I can feel it.

“Dearest… Light of my life… Do you _want_ to hear about my other sexual encounters?” He’s actually _smirking_ at me.

I _really_ don’t. I shake my head.

“That is good… because I can tell you, _quite definitively_ , that none of them matter to me,” he adds.

 

* * *

 

Now, I don’t harbor that kind of anxiety. I’m fully in touch with everything he loves. From the things that make sparks dance across the surface of his skin to the way he whispers he loves me when he’s close to the edge.

He’s my other half.

So this morning, when he rolls me onto him, I know exactly what to do.

The moment I straddle him, he starts to move. It’s not a thrust—more like an involuntary reflex that shows just how much he wants me.

I drag myself against him as electricity crackles from point to point across his chest.

“Be with me?” I ask, biting my lip.

He exhales sharply.

We play this game almost every day, but I’m not tired of it—and neither is he.

The moment he sinks into me, I clutch for something to hold onto. Prickling electricity spreads through me from the inside out. The deeper inside me he goes, the more I _feel_ him—his essence, his soul, his heart.

“Oh god,” I breathe.

“Are you _praying_ , Dearest?”

We laugh.

“Don’t tell Suvi,” he jokes. “Blasphemy and whatnot…”

I’m about to say something equally sarcastic when he interrupts my train of thought. He grabs my hips and thrusts up—deeper than I was expecting.

“Jaal, I—”

“Too much?” His voice belies a teasing threat.

“I can take it.” I feel my lip curl up, exposing one incisor. It’s as close as I ever come to truly snarky with him: lovemaking dares and quips. There’s no need for pretense—we _love_ each other.

“Come here,” he whispers.

He sits up until we’re chest to chest. Electricity flickers against my breasts—it stings, but I like it. In moments like these, I realize I’ve never liked _anything_ as much as I like him. I even like the scar on his right cheek—evidence of the day I almost lost him. I trace it with my finger and he smiles. He knows what I’m doing.

“You don’t need to think about that day, Darling One,” he says.

“I’m not,” I say. “I’m just thinking about _you_.”

He has stilled a little—our lovemaking is often like this: filled with stops and starts, conversations and debates.

“You’re so incredible,” I pant. I drag my tongue across his bottom lip.

He laughs.

“ _What_?”

“I haven’t even begun to demonstrate my skills this morning,” he says, “You’re going too easy on me.”

I laugh.

That’s when he grabs me—arms around my waist and mouth on my neck. He moves with reckless abandon and I’m reminded: it’s even better _now_ than it was when we were new.

 

* * *

 

When I come, it’s intense—I feel myself close around him hard enough to hurt, sparks still flying inside me.

The second I start, he grabs the back of my neck and looks at me.

I groan and mumble incoherently—it’s nothing even resembling words.

When it's over, Jaal is still looking right at me—with a level of scrutiny that used to make me feel odd. I know that _this_ is his favorite part.

He hasn't let me out of his arms yet and my body is still gently pulsing around him. He's hard and thick and moving ever so slightly—more like an instinct than an actual thrust. He pushes and pulls me until I’m on my hands and knees in front of him.

I peek over my shoulder as he grabs my hips. My muscles tense in anticipation. ...and then suddenly he’s inside: thrusting harder than I expect, forcing me to push against the mattress to stay upright. And all I can think is that I have the best life I can imagine. I’m looking out over a new galaxy from the flagship of a revolution and he’s _here_ —with me.

 

* * *

 

In the afterglow, we’re lying face to face. He runs his fingers through my hair.

“I love you,” he whispers.

I nod. I love him too and he _loves_ to hear me say it, but right now my mouth won't work. The smile he gives me tells me he understands.

And that’s the crux of all this—he _understands_ me. He understands me in bed. He understands me in combat, danger, and diplomacy.  He has understood me since the first day we met. And in the mornings, I think he understands me the best of all. 

* * *

 

 


	2. Family Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryder writes to her brother before he's woken up from his coma. 
> 
> \---------
> 
> Not smut... but don't worry, we'll come back to it. As it stands now, every other chapter is going to be a letter.

* * *

Dear Scott,

 

I need your help, _little_ brother… (I’m smirking, can you tell?)

 

It all started with three words—a concept, really: fascinating, special and strange. At first, I didn’t know what that meant any more than I understood _him_ —Jaal. But _now_ … look at me: receiving letters from his mother and sitting here in my quarters wondering _what_ he’s thinking—if he’s thinking about _me_.

He calls me ‘Darling One,’ Scott… it’s crazy and _terrifying_ and—

...and something I can’t even name.

This morning he said, ‘ _Only those who know darkness can lead others to light_.’ I spent all day thinking about it—running over it in my head. It feels like that’s all I _ever_ do now—mull over the things he’s said to me. But when I finally asked him, it turns out it goes with the _concept_ —the concept he has of _me_. According to him, I’m strange because I’ve seen the underside of life—been touched by what isn’t easy to explain, by what lurks in the recesses of consciousness. I’m fascinating because my feelings aren’t easy to read—he perpetually wants to know _more_. And I’m special because he’s _never_ felt this way about anyone. And to him, that means I’m the _one_ —the one to lead us _out_ of this nightmare.

_Is this real life?_

It’s hard to pin down how he makes _me_ feel. At first, his unabashed transparency was confusing. I found myself waiting for the other shoe to drop—for the _truth_ to come out. I guess believing I’m really _special_ and _strange_ and _fascinating_ —and that all those things are _good_ —is really hard for me. It might come down to the twin thing, Scott. How can I be all those things—all those _unique_ things—when I’m only half of a set?

I wish you were here. This is exactly the situation you’d know how to handle—the weirdness of your sister being in a relationship notwithstanding. I just think this might be _something_ … and I don’t want to screw it up.

_Fascinating and special and strange._

_Fascinating and special and strange._

_Fascinating and special and strange_.

It’s a _mantra_ now.

 

Of course, that’s what he is to me too.

 

I guess I’ve answered my own question… I’m in this: it’s _happening_. When you wake up, you’re not going to believe how different I am. I hope you’re _proud_ of me.

 

Love,

Your Sister

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the love on this piece so far. I was originally planning it as a single chapter, but I've been writing more... I really appreciate all the feedback.


	3. Tell Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another "In the Morning" scenario... followed by some problems with the crew. 
> 
> This story has begun to evolve into something that's going to have an actual plot, spanning the rest of the game and a little beyond. Subscribe for updates. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated E: sex, language
> 
> A huge thank you to [EarlGreyer](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Earlgreyer/pseuds/Earlgreyer) and [Aurlana](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurlana/pseuds/Aurlana) for their help with this one. I can't remember how to M/F... If you like fluff like this... you should check them both out. :)

* * *

“Darling One?”

I hear his voice before I register where I am. I blink.

“Another nightmare?” he asks.

Instead of answering him, I curl into the hollow of his chest and mouth the skin. He’s _here_ and he’s _real_ and nothing in my mind can get me. I’m _safe_.

“What was it this time?” he asks, smoothing a hand over my head.

My hair is sweaty—stuck to my scalp in spots. In any other situation, I’d shy away—a function of self-conscious propriety—but with him, I mumble into his chest and wrap my arms around his waist.

“I think it was about home again…” I say.

“Home?”

I nod. “It’s not a nightmare, per se—it’s just a reminder that I can’t go back there… that I can’t even know what has happened there in the last six hundred years…”

“I understand…” he kisses the top of my head and hums. It’s not a _song_ , really—more like a series of interconnected vibrations that make me feel like everything in the world is going to be okay.

“I just feel shaken,” I conclude.

He growls something that sounds like acknowledgement. It’s a noise that gurgles up from his chest. It used to scare me, but now I know what it means. I’m getting to know _all_ about him.

“When I first left home, I felt like a piece of me was lost,” he volunteers. “In some ways, I felt like home left _me_.”

I back up so I can see him. “How did you get past that feeling?”

“I found _you_ —and now I’m home wherever we go.”

That stuns me. I’m a pathfinder—I’m supposed to traverse the galaxy in search of new worlds and make a path for all of humanity. I’m not supposed to be _surprised_ by anything. So _how_ does this keep happening?

“Jaal,” I smile—lopsided and squished against the pillow. “You’re _amazing_.”

He cups one of my breasts absently—the nicest kind of habit; a sign of our familiarity.  “Thank you.”

He doesn’t argue with compliments. It’s another of his traits that I love. It reminds me that humans have a confusing sense of decorum—as if we don’t deserve to _hear_ what we’re good at, and if we do, we should never acquiesce.

 

Suddenly, I’m flat on my back. My breath catches in a gasp and my train of thought is derailed.

I crane my neck to kiss him.

“Love,” he breathes the endearment against my cheek. “Let me show you where home is _now_.” He smirks. He’s making a joke, but _I_ think he’s _right_ —he _is_ my home.

“Oh god,” I breathe.

He likes it when I talk during sex. I’m certainly not opposed to it, actually. I find it alarmingly arousing, but I’m not used to it.

“Tell me,” he prompts.

I groan and try to think of what I could possibly say in this scenario. His hands are all over me. His tongue licks a line from my ear to my clavicle. He’s everywhere and nowhere—substantial _and_ ghostly.

“I’m so wet,” I manage. The words feel lewd coming out of my mouth, but I say them, because I know he _wants_ to hear. He wants to know what I feel and what I think and it extends to every part of our lives. I’m _trying_.

He smiles, “Let me see.” He trails a hand between us.

I shiver and arch. The noise I make is louder than I expect and he cocks an eyebrow.

“ _More_ ,” I beg.

“How?” he asks. He’s pushing me. It’s okay—I like to be pushed.

“Fuck me,” I say. It’s actually a question, but it comes out sounding like a demand. I get to this point where I can’t be bothered to _ask_ anymore. He smiles like _he_ hears the subtle difference too.

He brackets my head with his hands and lines himself up. I’m so desperate that I know it won’t take much. He doesn’t thrust inside right away, though. Instead, he leaves me trembling and sweating on the brink.

“Eager?” he asks.

“ _Fuck_ ,” I breathe. “Please, please…”

I’m mostly incoherent—just syllables and sighs.

He loves it; I can tell.

I grab onto his shoulders and dig my fingertips into the skin. “Dear god…”

He laughs, deep and low and finally grinds down into me. The first thrust is always a bit too much—in the best way possible. It’s not only physical: my brain has to acclimate to being this connected to someone.

“Tell me,” he repeats. It’s his refrain whenever we fuck.

“Harder,” I growl.

He wraps an arm under my shoulder blades to hold me still.

Before I know it I’m panting and trying not to yell as he fucks me into the mattress. The walls on the tempest are not as thick as I think they should be—and space is _really_ fucking quiet.

In moments like these, it doesn’t even matter if I come. It’s great, if it happens—and it _usually_ does—but I’m not chasing it. I’m existing in the same space he exists in. This morning, I can tell _he’s_ the one who’s going to break first. There’s a look in his eyes when he’s about to lose it. If anything, _that’s_ what I chase.

He doesn’t have to tell me, but he _does_ —in a silent symphony of staccato breaths and legato growls, in tense fingertips and taut muscles.

“I love you,” I whisper in the stillness that follows.

His weight is substantial on top of me, but I love it. If our lives were different, I’d stay with him like this all morning, but we never have that luxury.

“Come on,” I say. My mouth is dry and my voice hoarse. I kiss the side of his head and push so he’ll roll away from me.

“No.” He grips me tighter. I can feel him smiling against my ear.

“You’re terrible.” I bite the skin of his shoulder—not as hard as I might have two minutes ago, but he flinches anyway. “Come on… let’s go…”

           

* * *

 

Everyone sort of knows we’re together, but no one says anything. When we leave my bedroom, we go separate ways. I climb the ladder toward the bridge, while he turns into the crew quarters. We do this dance almost every day—we’re getting good at it.

This morning, though, something changes. When the doors open, Lexi and Peebee are having a very vocal fight in the hallway. I’m surprised we didn’t hear them. _Maybe the walls are thicker than I thought?_ Not only does it block our escape, but it would be downright _weird_ to walk past them without saying anything.

“I’ve had it!” yells Peebee. “One more fucking interrogation like _that_ one and I’m going to light up your whole office!” She holds out her hand threateningly.

“Peebee,” Lexi’s voice is calm, but her is posture rigid. If it were possible for her to blush, I think she would be red from head to toe. “You’re being ridiculous.”

I wince—that is _not_ the way to handle Peebee.

Next to me, Jaal seems to be having a similar reaction. He knows how to manage people—it’s one of my favorite things about him.

Drack and Gil are now joining the fray on either side of the hallway. Vetra peeks out from the kitchen. This is becoming a scene. I’m trying my best not to interfere, but I’m stuck in the middle here.

It isn’t until Peebee starts to send off a shockwave in the hallway that I know I have to intervene. I don’t know if anyone else recognizes it, but since I do that too, I can see the signs before it comes to fruition. I end up throwing a barrier in the middle of the hall.

“Whoa!” I yell.

Everyone stops and looks at me.

“Calm the hell down!!” I yell.

 _That’s_ when everything changes. As soon as the focus shifts to me, it also shifts to Jaal, who is so close to my back, I can feel him breathing on my neck.

Peebee puts her hands down. She leans into her hip—her expression smug and inquisitive.

“What’s happening _there_?” she asks, pointing to the space between Jaal and me.

I drop the barrier and take a step backward. I don’t quite touch Jaal, but I’m hyper-aware that he is _really_ close to me. He hasn’t even attempted to back away.

“Don’t change the subject, Peebee,” I roll my eyes. “We _cannot_ have offensive biotics going off inside the ship—do you have a death wish?”

She laughs humorlessly, “I wasn’t going to _do_ anything.”

I raise an eyebrow at her, but she rolls her eyes and looks away.

Everyone disperses after that, but I’m feeling a little shaken. Jaal grabs my arm and pulls me back into my room when no one’s looking.

“Darling one,” he begins. “Are you ashamed of me?”

“What?”

“You were shaken by that,” he says. “I can see it all over your face.”

“I didn’t want Peebee to kill us,” I hedge. It’s true, but it’s not the whole truth.

He looks at me incredulously. “You are the light of my life—I would like everyone to know that, but I’ve been cautious because I can tell you aren’t comfortable with that idea,” he explains. “But in scenarios like this—I would like to be able to stand beside you…”

“That’s not…” I stumble over the words and eventually give up. I don’t know how to explain what I’m feeling. I’m _not_ embarrassed of him. I’m not _trying_ to keep him a secret. I walk toward my bed and sit on the edge.

“Darling One?” he follows me.

I pause, trying to gather my thoughts.

“I’m a Pathfinder,” I begin.

He laughs, “Really? I had no idea.”

That finally gets me to smile. I turn to look up at him. “I need to make sure that I seem a particular way.”

He squints at me.

“I need to be a little removed—” I explain. “I need to minimize my weak spots.”

“Are you implying I’m a _weak_ spot?”

“Yes,” I say. “You’re the weakest part of me because _you’re_ the part I can’t stand to lose.”

His face softens into a smile. “Darling One…” he smoothes the hair against the left side of my face. “Loving someone isn’t a sign of weakness—it’s a sign of strength.”

He’s always doing this: saying things that are terrifying in their simplicity.

“To love someone and stand by them even when it could be dangerous is _brave_ ,” he adds. “Don’t you think?”

I shrug.

“What do you think I’m doing on your flank all the time?”

I smirk. “Checking out my ass?”

He laughs and pulls me into his side. “I go out there with you every day because I _love_ you,” he says.

I smirk, “Are you sure it isn’t because I order you to do it?”

He laughs, “Darling One, if I did not want to do something you asked me to, you would _know_.”

I bite my lip and look down at the floor—he’s winning me over.

“All right—fine,” I sigh, “Let’s tell everyone.”

When I look back at his face, he’s grinning broadly—like I’ve just given him a birthday present or he knows a fantastic secret. He has this way of blending childlike wonder with strength and grit. He’s my favorite person alive.

When we get back out to the hallway, he reaches for my hand.

“Here goes nothing,” I wink.

           

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be another letter to Scott and then we'll jump back into the action after the first meridian quest.
> 
> PS... I really ship Lexi and Peebee... there might be something about them later in the background. :)


	4. Emails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryder writes two emails to her brother and receives one from Reyes, while Jaal gets one from his mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated T: we're gearing up toward the meat of the plot by introducing some interpersonal dynamics. 
> 
> I may not have mentioned this, but my Ryder’s name is Chris. She has such a potty-mouth. Also… there are some bad jokes in this chapter. Just fair warning.

* * *

* * *

Dear Scott,

 

I just got a message that you’re awake. I can’t believe it. In some ways, I always believed I was going to talk to you again… but… I have to admit, I was losing hope.

I'm on my way to you, but I've been waylaid. We're stuck doing some shit on Kadara. This place is the absolute trash can of the galaxy. There's an interesting guy here, though. His name is Reyes. He's sort of like Han Solo. Do you remember that historical vid? Star Battles? _Or something_? Whatever… the character was a smuggler. Remember? He crossed the galaxy pretending to be out for profit but he really had a heart of gold. I _think_ Reyes is like that.

Jaal thinks he's dangerous. He's said so a few times, but I don't agree. I don't bother arguing. I'm the pathfinder, it's my word that counts at the end of the day.

But still—we're in this together. We should be talking about things like this.

Whatever. This isn't important—not compared to fact that you’re awake.

Suffice it to say that I'm coming to see you—as soon as is possible—and… when I get there, we have some things to talk about.

 

I love you, little brother.

~C. Ryder

 

* * *

* * *

 

“We need to head back,” I say, throwing my helmet onto the ground beside us. I'm exhausted and dirty and disappointed in all these people on Kadara. It's the shittiest planet we've been to so far.

Jaal comes up behind me, his hand finds the middle of my back.

“Are you all right?” he asks.

I nod, but I'm not sure.

Peebee gives me a look that says more than a sentence could have. I used to know her really well… although it never turned into anything, we were _together_ once _._

These days, she barely says two words to me unless we're in the rover. And even then, she's not really talking _to me_. It’s more like a monologue directed at the universe—at the acrid Kadara landscape. We've been on this fucking planet so long that I can't remember what any other planet feels like.

“I just want to get back to the Tempest and out of here,” I sigh.

“We aren’t done yet,” says Peebee.

“My brother needs me,” I argue.

Jaal doesn’t say anything, but the way he’s looking at me speaks volumes.

 

* * *

 

Back in my quarters, he folds his arms across his chest. “What’s _really_ wrong?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Nothing… I’m just nervous—about seeing Scott.”

“I understand.” He’s hugging me before I know it. I’m generally opposed to people hugging me when I’m stressed, but he’s an exception—the _only_ exception.

“Tell me what’s stressing you.” He’s speaking into my hair, but I can understand him perfectly. We’re starting to speak the same secret language.

“I have to tell him—about our dad,” I sigh. “I’m not sure what to say.”

He rests his chin on the top of my head.

“...and I have to tell him what a _dump_ this galaxy is,” I joke.

He laughs, “Excluding Aya, I have to agree with you.”

“ _Ryder, you have new email_ ,” says SAM.

“Are you sure? Half the time you say that I don’t have anything.”

I smile as I walk toward the terminal.

“Well, he wasn’t lying _this_ time,” I say to Jaal.

“What is it?” he asks.

I scan the screen from left to right. It’s from Kadara— _perfect_.

“It’s Reyes… he says he needs something—on the Nexus,” I explain.

I hear Jaal huff behind me.

“ _What_?” I raise an eyebrow at him.

“I am tired of Kadara,” he says seriously. “...and I’m even _more_ tired of that smuggler.”

I shrug. I’m decidedly _not_ tired of him. Something about him makes me feel like we’re about to take over the universe—rules be damned. I’ve never been one for rules.

“What does he need?” asks Jaal.

He’s straightening—putting himself back into the role of soldier. He’s ready to do whatever I ask him to. It’s an interesting dynamic for our relationship. I have always wanted parity, above all else. Right now we’re walking the line between partners and commander-subordinate. The longer we're together, the more uncomfortable the inequity feels.

Of course, that feeling I’m having is _exactly_ the kind of thing he wants me to tell him—but I keep avoiding it. I’m not sure why.

“He didn’t say,” I answer.

“Typical.” He rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t look upset—he’s just commenting. When I discovered how sarcastic he is, it came as quite a shock. I didn’t expect it, but I think he can be incredibly funny.

“He wants to come _with_ us,” I explain.

That nets me a skeptical expression.

“We have to go there for Scott anyway—what could go wrong?” I ask. It's just a few days’ trip and things have been quiet lately. I think we'll be okay.

“He’s an exile,” says Jaal. “He isn’t welcome there.”

“I don’t think he’s planning to get caught.” I raise an eyebrow.

He shrugs. It seems we’re decided.

“I’ll tell him to be ready to leave as soon as possible. This can’t wait.”

 

* * *

 

Every time someone new joins our rag tag team of misfits, it feels a little strange. We’ve been together long enough that we each have a role—newcomers need to earn their place. It’s no different when Reyes comes on board. Immediately, I know we're in for a strange trip.

“So,” says Reyes, “Where should I tuck myself away?”

“Bunk up with Gil for now,” I gesture toward the back of the ship. “He’s going to be grouchy until he _sees_ you.” I smirk.

He laughs in a way I don’t expect. It isn’t cocky—it’s downright boyish. It almost throws me.

“Just don’t get into any trouble,” I continue. “It’s only a three-day trip.”

“Your ship is fast,” he comments, running a hand against the wall.

I nod. The things he says are sort of confusing. What does he mean _it’s fast_? It had better be. It’s one of a kind—the flagship of our whole armada. ...not that we have _much_ of an armada… but still—it might grow one day and the Tempest will be at the heart of it.

We’re walking toward Engineering. The doors we pass swish open and closed of their own volition. It’s unusually quiet in the corridor. I realize that my internal argument about ship mechanics is really loud. I’m probably making a face, based on the look Reyes is giving me.

“Are you all right, Ryder?” he asks. He’s smirking this time—his usual look.

“Yeah.” I’m not prone to blushing—I only ever do it for Jaal—but this is the closest I’ve come in a while.

I gesture for him to go through the door. On the other side, Gil is waiting for us. He looks stressed and intrigued in equal measure.

“Gil…” I tip my head in his direction, “This is Reyes—your roommate for the next week or so…”

“Hi,” Gil nods.

Reyes extends his arm and Gil takes it. “I won’t take up much space,” he says.

“ _Ryder, Jaal would like to speak with you privately,_ ” says SAM.

“Thanks, SAM,” I look back at Reyes and Gil, who seem to be sizing each other up. “Are you two going to be okay back here?”

They nod and I’m off.

 

* * *

 

Down the hall, I peek into Jaal’s quarters—well, _alcove_ … to call them quarters is a bit generous, I’ll admit. Either way, he isn’t there. He must be in my room. I like that better, anyway. It usually means he wants to have sex.

That isn’t true today, though. When I get there, he looks at me gravely.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“I’ve just had a disturbing correspondence from home—one of my sisters has fallen ill,” he says.

“Oh god.” I rush toward him and wrap my arms around his waist. “I’m so sorry—is everything going to be okay?”

He shrugs and pulls me in tighter. We deal with terror differently. I normally want to be alone. _He_ wants to be closer to me than I think is possible. I’m coming around to his way, though.

“What can I do for you?” I ask into the fabric of his shirt.

“I need to go to Havarl,” he says seriously.

I tip my head up so I can see him. He hasn’t loosened his grip on me at all, so it’s hard, but I want to see his face.

“You’re leaving?”

“Just for a few days,” he says. “You’re going to the Nexus… you can probably come back for me on your return trip.”

I nod, but I’m a little nervous. Since we started this whole... _thing_ … we haven’t spent any substantial time apart. I realize instantly that I’m going to _miss_ him. It’s a feeling I’m not used to—not even comfortable with.

“Thank you, Darling One.”

 

* * *

 

The following night, we wave goodbye at the airlock. He doesn’t kiss me because he respects me too much to do anything to jeopardize the image I’ve created for myself. Even though we’re not any kind of a secret now, I’m still the leader of this crazy crew.

When we get back into orbit, Reyes and Gil are laughing in the hallway. They smile at me as I walk by.

“Are you boys up to no good?” I ask.

They look at each other. Reyes winks.

“You’ll have to define _good_ in this scenario,” says Gil.

I laugh. “You’re ridiculous. I’m getting some sleep. Be ready to go tomorrow, Reyes.” I keep walking past them toward my room. “You too, Gil,” I call over my shoulder.

“You got it, Ryder,” says Reyes.

 

* * *

* * *

 

Dear Scott,

 

I just left Jaal on his home planet. It’s a place called Havarl. You’ve probably already heard of it at this point. I’m sure you’ve been reading up a storm since you woke up—you always were a bookworm.

Anyway… that means you won’t get to meet him this time, which is a shame. He really wanted to get to know you. It’s okay, though… you’ll meet everyone else, including that Reyes character I mentioned in my other email. He’s coming to the Nexus sort of secretly, though, so it’ll have to be quick.

God, I’m so tired, I’m barely making any sense. I need to get some sleep.

Exhaustion notwithstanding, I can’t wait to see you.

 

~C. Ryder.

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've changed the structure of this piece a little as I've gotten farther in. There will still be plenty of smut and happiness... but there might be just a _ounce_ of angst. Just enough to make the happiness worth more. :) 
> 
> Come find me on tumblr or twitter and shout about this game or others. :) @ponticle both places.


	5. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gil and Chris Ryder spend the day together unexpectedly. Reyes gets in trouble. Chris finally sees Scott and things don't go exactly as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the beginning of the Gil/Ryder sub-plot. (The one that WILL NOT end with Jill stealing him...)

* * *

“Good morning,” calls Gil. He caught me sneaking toward the kitchen before anyone else was up. I’m desperate for coffee that no longer exists. We’re drinking this black sludge that isn’t any kind of a substitute, but the ritual is similar.

“Hey, Buddy.”

He falls into step next to me. “What’s up?”

“Nothing… just getting ready to see my brother—my twin…” I sigh.

“That must be really weird,” he says.

“What must?”

“Being a _twin_?” He leans against the wall of the kitchen.

“Well, not that I have anything _else_ to compare it to,” I laugh, “but I think it _is_ weird… one half of a set.”

“What’s your brother like?” he asks.

I smirk. “Are you going to try to pick him up?”

He laughs. “Not necessarily… is he as _grouchy_ as you are?”

We smile at each other while I pour the sludge into two cups. He drinks this garbage too—we seem to be the only ones brave enough to do it.

“He’s really nice, Gil.” I exhale a stressed sigh. “He’s the better twin, for sure. You know how they always say there’s an evil one?”

He nods.

“Well, it’s not _him_.”

We both laugh.

“He’s really going to _like_ you, I’m sure,” I say.

Gil smiles. I think he might be blushing, but he puts his cup in front of his face and rubs his cheeks. I decide to let it go.

“What are you going to do while we’re docked?” I ask.

He shrugs. “I would normally call Jill, but she’s on Eos.”

“Yeah… how’s her ‘ _get-everyone-knocked-up_ ’ initiative going?”

“Meh.” He sips from the edge of his cup and makes a face. This stuff _really_ is disgusting. “Some people are into it… it’s just kind of tough: we lived in this post-procreation world and now we don’t. That idea that everyone _had_ to have offspring died out a couple centuries ago, you know?          

“...and now we’re trying to get everyone programmed back to some kind of biological imperative,” Gil continues. “Jill is persuasive, but I don’t know if she’s _that_ persuasive.”

I nod. I never even _considered_ having kids. I still don’t want to, but Scott does. He _always_ wanted to settle somewhere and have a family—he _thought_ he’d be able to do that in this new world.

“I don’t want kids,” I blurt.

He doesn’t look fazed. He and I have become really close in recent months. I don’t like to pick ‘bests’ but it happened anyway. He’s my best friend on this ship—in this whole galaxy. It doesn’t hurt that Jaal really likes him. It’s nice to have your boyfriend and your bestie get along.

“For what it’s worth,” he smiles at me, “I think you’d be great at it… if you were so-inclined.”

I roll my eyes. “What, exactly, are you basing that on?”

He shrugs. “You’re sweet when you’re trying.”

I’m not sure what he means. I squint.

“—with Jaal… you’re very _sweet_.”

I’m trying not to blush. I feel my chest collapse in on itself and I look away.

“Don’t worry—you’re still fearsome and terrifying the rest of the time,” he adds.

 

“So what’s going on with Reyes?” he asks eventually.

“What do you mean?”

“Why is he here?” Gil asks.

“Oh,” I rub a knuckle into one of my eyes. I’m still exhausted. “I’m not totally sure—he apparently needs something on the Nexus?”

“You know this is a colossally bad idea, right?” asks Gil.

I shrug.

“He isn’t going to be _anyone’s_ favorite on the Nexus…” continues Gil. “God forbid Addison sees him…”

“Yeah… I thought of that.”

We look at each other for a second. Then I smirk.

“I just don’t _care_.”

“Well, he doesn’t seem to either,” says Gil.

“Do you like him?” I ask.

“He’s exactly the type of guy I promised Jill I’d stop dating,” laughs Gil.

“I didn’t mean like _that_ ,” I laugh. “I meant like… as a human?”

“Oh… I’m not sure.” He smiles at a spot on the floor. “I _think_ so… do you?”

“Yeah… I do,” I answer.

“Well, he certainly likes _you_ ,” he says.

I squint, “What does that mean?”

“He’s just… a little _taken_ with you, I think.”

Something feels a little funny in my chest—like a string pulled too taut. It’s _not_ a good feeling.

He tips his head to the side and pushes me with his elbow, “It’s all right—you’re not beholden to every person who looks at you…”

“I know that.”

“Good,” he smiles, “Besides, Jaal could kick his ass, I’m fairly certain.”

We laugh.

He holds up his mug in a toast. “I need to get to work… I wish you the best of luck once we get down there. If you need me, I’ll be at Vortex… ignoring your antics.”

           

* * *

 

A couple hours later, I’m wishing that I’d listened to him— _and_ to Jaal. Bringing Reyes down here was a horrible idea. Instead of visiting my brother—who is awake and whom I love endlessly—I’m sitting in Addison’s office explaining why I let a _‘criminal’_ onto her space station.

“Ryder—”

Her voice is incredibly imperious. Does she _know_ how pretentious she sounds?

“Ryder, how do you expect me to control an entire population in this galaxy when our Pathfinder won’t even follow simple rules?”

I think about answering her, but this whole conversation has been a diatribe—definitely rhetorical.

“Do you even know what your _associate_ was doing here?” she asks.

I don’t, actually. I shake my head.

“ _Perfect_.”

She paces away from me in disgust. She reminds me of my third grade teacher. I rigged Scott’s datapad to turn on and play loud music whenever she said the word, “quiet.” It was hilarious, but neither our teacher, nor our principal, agreed.

“What, exactly, do you want me to do?” I ask.

She stops pacing and looks at me—piercingly.

“Nothing—you’ve done enough,” she says. “Your _friend_ will stay in lockup until we can decide what to do with him.”

“What?” I take two steps forward and put my hand out, but realize it feels like a threat and back off. She’s not a nice person, but it won’t help to end up in jail myself. I need to regroup. “Okay… but we’re not done.”

 

* * *

 

Outside of her office, I find Peebee.

“So?”

“They’ve got him in lockup,” I grit my teeth.

She smiles devilishly, “So I guess we’re staging a little jailbreak?”

I hadn’t _planned_ on this, but I feel like agreeing straight away. I’m not the type to back down from a fight. If Jaal were here, he’d tell me not to do this, I’m sure. He’d think of diplomatic channels… but he _isn’t_ here. I’m on my own this time. ...and Peebee is the perfect partner for this kind of operation.

“Yeah, Peebee.” I smile. “Let’s do this.”

She giggles, “Let me find Gil and we’ll get going.”

“Gil?” I ask.

“Yeah… I’m not the _only_ one who wants to see what you look like behind bars…” she laughs.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

She throws an arm around my shoulders. It’s the most she’s touched me in months and it gives me pause. Maybe we’re on the road to being friends again—I _hope_ we are.

“Come on, Ryder… live a little.”

“I need to go see my brother,” I mumble.

“Fine—I’ll meet you in the Habitation Deck.” She runs off and I’m left standing in the middle of the sidewalk. I steel my expression, pull my hood up over my head, and walk toward the tram. Before I get there, someone puts a hand on my shoulder and spins me.

“Hey,” says Gil. He looks nervous.

“What’s going on?” I ask. “Peebee is looking for you.”

“I know,” he says. He wipes his sleeve across his forehead. “She found me and filled me in. I thought you might need backup?”

I squint. Wasn’t _Peebee_ the one who was going to back me up?

“Gil, don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t think of you as helpful in a jail-break scenario.”

He laughs, “No… I meant with your _brother_.”

“Oh.” My chest feels sort of warm.

“I thought you might need moral support… for the conversations you have to have…” he adds. “I know it isn’t going to be easy… and Jaal isn’t here to be your emotion-wrangler.”

I suddenly hug him. He’s surprised and almost falls backward. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah…” he laughs. “Let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

At the door to the medbay, I start to get nervous. It doesn’t matter if we shared a womb, we haven’t spoken to each other in months and I’m not sure how to adequately fill him in on my life, my dozens of emails notwithstanding.

Gil grabs my elbow before I cross the threshold. “Want to go in there with a plan?” he asks.

I nod. “Yeah… I just don’t know where to start.”

“Just tell him all the brutal stuff first,” he suggests. “Get it all out and then call in your _super handsome_ bestie and I’ll smooth it over.”

I laugh and roll my eyes. “You’re assuming Scott has good taste…” It isn’t lost on me that he called himself my ‘bestie,’ though. That used to be Jill’s title.

Gil squeezes my arm and gestures toward the door. “I’ll be right here when you’re ready. Just come get me.”

 

* * *

 

The conversation is not as brutal as I expected. Scott knows a lot of what I have to tell him before I even say it—he’s been awake for over a week and he’s done nothing but read and talk to the doctors. He knows all about my rise to pathfinder and the state of things in Andromeda. He even knows about Jaal because of all my emails: he read dozens of them in the last few days. What he _doesn’t_ know are the rest of my relationships. That’s when I get Gil.

When they see each other, I know something has _happened_. It’s like the whole room turned into a huge EM field and they are oppositely charged.

“So… this is Gil,” I begin.

“Hi,” says Scott. He sits up with effort and extends his hand.

Gil smiles and takes it. Alarmingly, he sits on the edge of Scott’s bed without being invited. He’s brave in this kind of situation.

“It’s great to finally meet you,” says Gil. “I knew you were twins, but I didn’t realize how alike you’d look…” he looks back and forth between us.

Scott blushes— _actually_ blushes—just like I do anytime Jaal says anything to me.

I think that’s my cue. “Well, Scotty…” I clear my throat so they’ll look at me. I have to do it _twice_. “We need to go deal with _something_ …” I look at Gil pointedly.

Gil interrupts, “I think I’ll stay here for a bit.” He looks at Scott, who nods enthusiastically.

“Your brother needs an orientation to Andromeda.”

I can’t believe how quickly this is happening. I can’t tell if I’m super psyched or just nauseated. He’s my _brother_.

“Okay… I’ll call you when it’s done.”

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you soooo much for all your feedback. I can't believe the response this story has gotten. Now that we're into the thick of things, I hope it meets (and exceeds) all your expectations. <3
> 
> Leave me a comment, if you're so inclined.


	6. Break Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris Ryder wakes up in a strange place with people she doesn't expect. Even _less_ likely is what's happening ten feet below them between Scott and Gil.
> 
> **Note** : this chapter features the first PoV shift to Gil... third person, present tense... between the double lines.
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

Before I wake up, I know something is wrong. I’m cold… and there’s a voice—someone I know. For a second, I think it's Jaal, but it’s too soft—too far away. As I open my eyes, the voice changes and I realize: it’s Reyes. He’s leaning over me, looking concerned.

I cough and sit up, only to strike my head on a low-hanging piece of rebar.

“Where the hell are we?” I croak.

“Be careful—get up slowly,” he says.

“What?”

Suddenly, Peebee speaks up. She appears from around a corner. I think we’re in some kind of metal air duct.

“Be quiet, Ryder,” she hisses. “ _Stars_ …”

Despite the fact that I might be concussed, I’m starting to put the pieces together. Right after leaving Gil in Scott’s room—which is _weird_ ; I need to come back to that—I took off to find Peebee and break Reyes out of lockup. We discovered—with SAM’s help—that we were going to have to take an alternate route. What I can’t understand is why I was unconscious.

“What happened?” I whisper.

Reyes smiles at me. “You were so convinced you could hack the conduit lock. But you couldn’t—you got shocked. SAM revived you.”

“ _Oh_.” That _does_ sound like me; I’m impulsive.

“We’re almost out, though,” says Peebee. “When Lexi hears where we’ve been, she’s going to have a _conniption_. It’s going to be great.”

Reyes crawls three steps ahead of us and peeks around the corner. “I think it’s safe,” he says.

When I join him, I realize we’re almost in the med bay. It’s a strange place to escape to, but I have friends here—well, my brother and his doctors, at least.

...and _Gil_. I hear his voice wafting up through the grate. We’re about ten feet off the ground, hovering over the back corner of the room. It’s large, but I’d know his voice anywhere. I’m so used to him. And then there’s my brother. He’s laughing too—a higher, strangled sort of noise that belies how nervous he is. He’s probably sweating bullets. He’s not the smoothest guy in the bunch—but, to be honest, neither am I.

“So… what’s your plan here?” asks Peebee. “Are we going to drop from the ceiling in the middle of med bay and say hello?” She laughs.

“If we wait just a little, most of the staff will go home—just a couple night nurses will be milling around,” I explain. Now that I’m awake and coming back to myself I’m remembering the plan:

Get Reyes: check.

Escape through ductwork: check.

Sneak into medbay: check

Plead with (or bribe) hospital night staff: pending

“So now we wait,” I say.

Peebee sighs. It’s not a loud sound, but it feels like someone could hear her. I shoot her a disapproving look.

“What time is it?” she asks.

“Almost seven,” I answer. “Most of the staff will leave within the hour.”

 

* * *

 

This might be the longest hour of my life. Not only am I hunched uncomfortably in a duct, but I’m stuck with Peebee (who hates to wait) and Reyes (who is a big of a loose cannon) while I’m forced to listen to my brother flirt with my best friend. It’s _demoralizing_.

“Your brother is terrible at this,” says Reyes. He’s smiling.

“God, I know, right?” I snicker. “I’m kind of in shock.”

“At how inept he is?”

I laugh. “No… that he’s been sitting there talking to Gil _all day_ …”

Reyes shrugs. “Well… _you_ sit and talk to Gil all day, do you not?”

“Yeah, I guess… but it’s different.”

“Yes,” he acquiesces, “but certainly, you can understand why Scott would find him interesting.”

I can’t really argue with that. Gil’s _great_. He knows about a huge variety of topics—that’s my favorite thing about him. It’s really hard to bring up something about which he doesn’t have at least conversational knowledge.

“...and I enjoyed staying with him the last couple nights,” Reyes adds. He’s smirking.

“What does _that_ mean?” I laugh.

He winks.

Peebee laughs from over my shoulder. “I think you’re full of talk, Reyes.”

“You’ll never know…” he mumbles.

While they’re teasing each other, it occurs to me that I’m already feeling protective of Gil in a new way. My brother likes him. I _hope_ Reyes is kidding.

 

As we continue to sit, it occurs to me how much I wish I could see Jaal right now. He would be laughing at this situation too, but not in a _mean_ way. He loves it when people fall in love—he’d be teasing me for not being happy _enough_. I’m just about to launch into a full-scale daydream about the last time I saw Jaal and how it feels when I bury my face in the skin of his chest when something shifts and we’re suddenly falling.

Peebee screams. Reyes shouts. _I_ collide with a metal cart. All of this commotion _pales_ in comparison to the look on Scott’s face when the dust settles. He looks appalled.

“Chris?!” he hisses. He sits up in bed, which effectively scoots him several inches _closer_ to Gil. He looks healthier than he did earlier today: sometimes attraction is the best medicine.

“Hi,” I cough. “Sorry for dropping in…”

“What are you doing?” asks Gil. Whereas Scott looks worried, Gil looks smug. He knows how much trouble I’ve been getting into lately. Without Scott, I’m less regulated. He has _always_ been my conscience.

“Escaping,” I point to Reyes. “We’ve gotta go.”

I grab Gil by the crook of my arm and pull him.

“We’ll call you, Scott,” I call over my shoulder.

Scott looks disappointed and flustered in equal measure. “Bye, Chris—love you.”

“Bye!”

 

* * *

 

In the morning, I drag myself through my coffee/sludge routine as per usual. We escaped back to the Tempest without much difficulty, despite our antics. How do we keep getting away with things like this?

Gil joins me when I’m halfway through my second cup.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hi.” I smile at him over the edge of my mug. “Couldn’t sleep?”

He shrugs. “Reyes and Peebee were awake and making noise until about twenty minutes ago. I finally gave up.”

We’re quiet for a minute. I can tell he wants to say something to me, but I can’t imagine what: he’s sweating.

“So… about your brother,” he coughs.

“Dear god…” I laugh. “You’re not going to ask me for dating advice about _my brother_ , are you?!”

He blushes bright pink. “I guess not.”

“You _can_ —if you want me to make fun of you for the rest of time,” I offer.

“He’s really not what I was expecting,” says Gil.

I squint. “What does _that_ mean?”

“Well… he’s just so much kinder… and _sweeter_ … than _you_ are.” He laughs.

“Oh, thanks…”

“I mean… we were kind of making a connection…” he laughs at himself. “Or something equally implausible…”

I don’t necessarily _want_ to hear this, but it seems like he’s going to tell me anyway.

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

Once Chris is gone, Gil settles into the edge of Scott’s bed. He looks sort of small—that’s what 600 years, plus a few extra months, of cryosleep does to a person. Gil wonders transiently what he looked like _before_.

“So,” says Scott. “You and my sister are pretty close?”

Gil nods. “Yeah… she kicked my ass at poker once and I knew we were destined to be best friends.”

He laughs. “Really? She’s normally _terrible_ at poker.”

Gil shrugs. “So how much longer do you think you’ll be here… in med bay?”

“I’m not sure… I hope I’ll be leaving soon…” he says. “I’d like to see the inside of that ship you live on.”

Gil laughs. _Is that innuendo?_

Scott looks confused. “Chris says it’s amazing?”

 _Oh. He’s serious_.

“Yeah—it’s one-of-a-kind,” says Gil. “Of course, your sister keeps trying to punch holes in it. She’s sort of reckless.”

Scott laughs, “I’ve noticed—believe me.”

“Well, as soon as you’re better, I’d love to give you a tour,” says Gil. “Just let me know when.” 

* * *

* * *

 

 

“And then, of course,” says Gil, “you dropped in through the ceiling and ruined everything.”

I laugh. “Sorry…”

“He said he’s going to email me,” Gil adds.

“I’m sure he will.”

“You think so?”

“Definitely—he doesn’t play around with that kind of thing,” I explain. “Scott is a romantic.” I roll my eyes, but I actually think it’s sweet. And now that Jaal and I are— _whatever_ we are—I’m starting to understand it.

Gil looks stressed.

“What?” I squint at him.

“It’s just… I’ve been reticent to get into anything—with the Jill thing looming…” he trails off.

_Oh._

“Well, I wouldn’t worry yet, Gil,” I say seriously. “You just met him yesterday.”

We manage to smile at each other and laugh, but I feel dread creeping into my chest. Gil isn’t really in a position to take on a new romantic relationship right now—he’s going to be a _father_. And Scott is my twin—I don’t want him to get into something he can’t handle. I’m pretty sure he couldn’t handle _that_.

On an even more serious note, we’re only days away from handling this Meridian situation. I’m stressed to the max and it’s likely that we’ll all be dead before any of this comes to fruition—at least _I_ probably will be. We’re approaching a point of no return—I can feel it in my bones.

“Well, I need to get going, Gil.” I stand up abruptly. “We’re picking up Jaal in a couple hours.”

He smiles, but he looks wary.

At the door, I turn and smile. “Don’t worry, Gil—whatever happens, I’m sure you’ll do the right thing.”

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... as you can tell, we're setting ourselves up for some problems with Meridian looming and Gil's would-be fatherhood. Stay tuned and be sure to subscribe! :)


	7. A New World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris Ryder wakes up the morning after the final mission. There's a whole new world out there waiting for her. //Scott and Gil take things to the next level.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated E... and we're back.
> 
> Just like before, Gil's PoV is between the double lines: third person limited, present tense.

* * *

Before I open my eyes, I take an inventory of my body. I’m bruised and battered, but I’m _alive_. I stretch slowly across the sheets and raise my arms overhead. I’m alive in a brand new galaxy—just waiting for me. My arm brushes by a patch of warm skin and I peek from under my eyelids. Jaal is breathing gently on his side next to me.

“Good morning,” I whisper. Uncharacteristically, I’m awake before he is. Usually, I find him hovering over me or humming endearments, but today I beat him.

He blinks a few times. “Hi.”

“You must be _really_ tired…” I prop my head on my hand and smile at him.

He nods and wraps an arm around my waist. As he drags me across the sheets, I feel my skin prickle. That electricity thing is a sure sign that he wants me. It’s mad because we had sex twice last night, but what _else_ is there to do when you’ve saved an entire galaxy?

“I’m not _that_ tired,” he growls into my neck.

I feel my face crack into a smile.

“I could demonstrate,” he flirts.

I’m trying to think of something snarky to say, but my mind goes blank when he bites the skin of my neck. The way he’s breathing is a signal—a cautionary tale about what he’s going to do to me.

“Show me,” I whisper.

He pushes me flat on my back and trails kisses across my chest until he can suck one nipple into his mouth.

“I missed you,” I breathe.

He doesn't say he missed me too, but I know he did. When he saw me at the airlock yesterday, he dropped everything and ran to me. While I'm still remembering the way he spun me around, he slides one hand up the inside of my thigh to where I’m wet.

“You're awfully _accommodating_ ,” he jokes.

“That's mostly _you_.”

He stops moving and looks at me. “I suppose it is.”

He sits up.

“What's going on?” I ask. All the places he's licked and sucked feel cold in the air between us.

“Darling One, do you ever consider children?” he asks.

 _Great._ Ever since his mother sent me that first email I've been wondering how long it would take for this particular discussion. And after my conversations with Gil lately, I’ve been thinking about them a _lot_.

“I’ve been _considering_ them lately…” I mumble.

He raises an eyebrow.

“...but, to be honest,” I sit up so we’re face to face. “I’ve never really given it much thought… for _myself…_ ”

His face falls. I can tell he doesn’t mean to let it happen—he tries not to let it show through—but he’s terrible at hiding his emotions.

“Jaal, up until yesterday, we weren’t sure there was even going to _be_ a galaxy in which to have children...”

He shrugs assent.

I reach up to cup his cheek. “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. “You don’t need to be _sorry_.”

At the exact second he opens his mouth again—presumably to explain _why_ I shouldn’t be sorry and how our relationship is going to _work_ moving forward, we’re interrupted by Suvi on the com.

“Ryder, your brother is requesting you on vidcom.”

I sigh, “Okay, Suvi… I’ll be right there.” I shrug at Jaal contritely.

“It’s all right,” he says, kneeling back on his haunches. “We’ll talk later.”

 _Great_.

 

Upstairs and around the corner, a blinking light alerts me to a call. “Hey Scott,” I say into the monitor, “This had better be an emergency…”

He laughs, “Why?”

 _No reason_.

“Nevermind—what is it?”

“I was wondering… when you’re getting here… I didn’t expect you to leave again last night,” he says.

“I still have a lot of shit to clean up around here.” I sigh and shrug. “What do you need?”

He bites his lip. “Nothing...I just thought you’d _be_ here… Gil said—”

“Gil?”

He blushes. “Yeah…”

“You’ve been talking to Gil?” I lean in toward the screen and whisper. “...how much?”

He laughs quietly. “Kind of a lot… like… almost continuously since the day we met. I looked for him yesterday, but there was so much commotion...”

“ _Oh my_ …”

We shrug at each other—almost in unison. Being a twin is so weird.

“Well, we _are_ heading to the Nexus… we’ll be there in like an hour… but we can’t stay long…”

“That’s all right—Gil told me it would be a quick visit.”

“Great… well, next time, call _Gil_ and leave me out of it…” I roll my eyes. “I love you.” I wink and hang up.

 

The time between our conversation and actually docking seems to fly by. I go back to my room right away to finish my conversation with Jaal, but he isn’t there. He’s off working on something in engineering, so I know this isn’t the right time. Besides, I have fifty other things to handle—as per usual. I feel like I’m caught in my own personal tornado until we dock.

Gil meets me at the airlock.

“Hey… so this is _weird_ ,” he says.

I laugh. “Super.”

We wait for the doors to unseal. To my surprise, Scott is standing on the other side.

“Hey!” I take a few steps forward to hug him. “You look _much_ better.”

“Thanks,” he says. He’s looking over my shoulder at Gil, who seems to be playing at calculated nonchalance.

“You really saved our asses yesterday,” I say.

He smiles. He’s still not really looking at me.

“Okay… well…” I clear my throat. “I guess I’ll get lost… Please don’t get into too much trouble while I’m gone.”

 

* * *

* * *

 

Gil watches Chris walk off with a bit of trepidation. He has known Scott exactly two weeks, but it feels like his entire _life_ has been turned upside down in that amount of time. Most notably, he’s going to be a father—the procedure took. It feels wrong to start something under those circumstances, but he’s rationalizing already: ‘ _No one can know what this is becoming_.’ ‘ _It’s just for fun_.’ ‘ _No promises have been made_.’

Another voice in his head insists those are lies.

“So,” says Scott. “Want to show me your ship?”

Gil smiles. “I’m glad you called it _my_ ship—your sister seems to think it belongs to her.”

Scott laughs. “I know how Chris likes to take things over…”

While they walk toward engineering, Gil notices how much better Scott looks than the last time he saw him.

“Are you feeling better?” he asks.

Scott shrugs. “For the most part… I was up and around yesterday too… you may have _heard_...”

Gil smiles. “I looked for you, actually.”

“You did?”

Gil nods, opening the door to engineering. “I didn’t see you anywhere—I was pretty disappointed…”

“Really?” asks Scott.

“We talked so much about seeing each other again…” Gil pauses. “I thought you’d be there when I stepped off the ship…”

Scott takes two steps closer and leans his hip against a nearby console. “I wanted to be… but I had to save my sister—she’s so _helpless_.”

They both laugh.

“I did think about all the things you _said_ , though…” adds Scott. “Especially about what we’d do when I got here…” He looks around the ship; his eyes dart from corner to corner.

Gil tries not to swallow too loudly, but there’s a lump forming in the back of his throat. They _were_ a little flirty in their emails—he may or may not have promised Scott a private kind of tour. He’s not sure if he regrets it.

“So… do you want to see the rest of engineering?” Gil asks awkwardly.

Scott laughs, “I guess… where do you _sleep_?”

Gil almost chokes.

“It doesn’t seem like there’s any _furniture_ in here,” Scott clarifies. “Like… do you have a _bed_? A cot, even?”

“Oh… I guess it’s a little like roughing it…” admits Gil. “I’m so used to it, I don’t even _remember_ what a real bed feels like. I have this little bunk back here.” He points to his tattered red and white mattress, tucked in the corner behind a pile of broken junk.

“What is all that stuff?” asks Scott. He walks over to the pile and laughs.

“The ship’s guts…” Gil muses.

“That’s a little morbid.” Scott smiles as Gil walks up next to him.

“I think it’s nice—like keeping your kid’s baby teeth…” he trails off. That word: _baby_ … it’s starting to mean something to him. He’s so thrown that he doesn’t hear the next thing Scott says.

“Gil?”

“Oh, sorry… what?”

Scott laughs. His dimples grow deeper. “I asked if you’re always so _sentimental_.”

Gil smiles. “I guess I am.”

Scott leans in—a little closer than is strictly necessary—and smirks. “Sentimental looks good on you.”

 _That’s it_. Gil steps forward and presses his lips against Scott’s. He does it because Scott is gorgeous and obviously inviting him to, but he _also_ does it to shut up that little voice in his head that keeps insisting this is a mistake.

Scott grabs Gil’s shirt and pushes him back against the hull, next to that pile of baby teeth.

_Baby—don’t think baby._

“I’m so glad you’re here, Scott,” whispers Gil. He wraps one hand around the back of Scott’s neck and pulls him in tight.

Scott gets to work on the buttons and zippers keeping Gil in his suit.

“Is this okay?” whispers Scott.

Gil nods and bites down on Scott's lower lip. This may all be a mistake, but it's a _gorgeous_ one. It's becoming more gorgeous all the time, too. Scott finishes getting Gil out of his shirt and pulls his own off over his head. He's a map of caramel veins and muscle fibers. Gil's breath catches.

“You're perfect,” whispers Gil. He doesn't even _mean_ to say it; it just comes out—like an explosion of truth he wouldn't normally be willing to admit.

Scott laughs. “I think _I'm_ winning in the view department. He trails a palm across Gil's chest and hooks his fingers over the edge of his belt.

Gil nods frantically.

Scott almost laughs—it's the sound of someone without a care in the world… someone who’s _ready_ to start something new… who _isn't_ encumbered by responsibility and guilt. It's the way Gil wants to feel, but can't.

It almost throws him.

“Hey?” Scott whispers against his lips. “Are you okay?”

It's a strange thing to ask because Gil has Scott pinned against the wall—his knee wedged between Scott's thighs—but _Scott_ is the one in control. _He's_ the one who knows what to ask. Gil thinks transiently that if things had gone differently, Scott would have made a good pathfinder too. Maybe not as good as Chris… but _good_.

“I'm great,” says Gil. He grinds his crotch against Scott's hip.

Scott's eyes widen. He runs his palm across the outline Gil's cock. “Can I get you out of these?”

Gil nods helplessly. Even though he's _ostensibly_ pushing Scott back against the wall, he's really using him like a crutch. It seems _impossible_ to hold himself up without Scott's arms around him. Somehow, he manages to go through the motions of pulling Scott's pants down while his mouth clumsily sucks and licks Scott's neck.

“You're… _wow_ ,” says Scott, suddenly.

Gil feels his face flush. Of course, he was probably pretty red to begin with. He can't remember being this turned on since—ever? He reaches down to take Scott in hand. His cock is thick and hard against his palm.

Scott laughs again. Gil is learning his facial expressions. So far, he loves _all_ of them.

“Come over here.” He pulls and pushes Scott until he’s flat on his back in the little bunk. Gil leans over him and kisses a line from his clavicle to his hip. He’s drinking in every facet of his body, reveling in the rise and fall of his chest—it hitches when Gil reaches especially sensitive patches of skin.

“I think you might actually be trying to kill me,” moans Scott.

“Shhh,” cautions Gil. “This is my area, but people have been known to barge in.”

Scott looks over Gil’s shoulder at the door. While he’s distracted, Gil sucks the head of his cock into his mouth. Scott gasps.

Gil kneels and braces his hands on either side of Scott’s hips for more leverage and licks up and down until Scott is starting to groan and swear under his breath. Gil knows he’s good at this sort of thing. What he _isn’t_ good at is what comes after—the part where they have conversations about what this _means_ and where it's _going_. There was a time—in the not-so-distant past—when he would have been able to say what he wanted, but all of that is so muddled now.

“Gil,” gasps Scott. He grips Gil’s shoulder with sharp fingertips.

Gil looks up. He still doesn't completely lose contact. His lips continue to lick and suck absently.

“Come up here,” he gasps.

Gil reluctantly lets Scott out of his mouth. He kisses the tip through a smirk, for good measure.

“I want you,” says Scott.

Gil isn't entirely sure what that means. This is always the most awkward part of having sex for the first time: the pitching and catching scenario. Only, that _isn't_ what Scott means. Before he knows what's happening, they’re rutting together in the circle of Scott's palms.

“You're amazing,” whispers Gil.

Scott smiles and grinds his hips in time with his hands.

 

The moment passes too quickly and Gil finds himself on his side in the little bunk, with one leg splayed across Scott's hips. They're panting and sweaty, but he hasn't felt so at peace since he left the Milky Way. And despite Gil’s earlier fears, Scott doesn't seem to need reassurances in the post-orgasmic haze. All he wants is to bury his lips in the skin of Gil's neck.

 _Maybe this is all going to work out after all._  

* * *

* * *

 

 

In the morning, I go into the kitchen expecting to find Gil in his usual perch next to the sludge, but he isn’t there. I grab my own mug of this disgusting stuff and head down to engineering.

“Gil?” I call.

_Nothing._

“Gil?”

Around the corner, I stop dead. Gil and my brother are curled into each other in Gil's tiny bunk behind a maintenance console and a pile of engineering crap. Only a few thin blankets are protecting me from having to bore my eyes out later.

“What the—?”

Gil opens his eyes first. He looks horrified.

“Oh dear god…” I turn on my heel and rush back down the hallway toward my room. Thankfully, Jaal is still inside. He’s running through a morning exercise routine that I normally find erotic, but I’m too grossed out to appreciate right now.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. “I could feel you coming down the hallway like a cloud of doom.”

I laugh, but it’s strained. “My brother and Gil are fucking.”

He laughs. “And that’s a _bad_ thing?”

“No…” I whine, sitting on the edge of my bed. “Not inherently… but it’s gross that I _know_ about it.”

He laughs again—deep and loud. “Darling One, you need to relax…”

I roll my eyes.

“Maybe I can help you?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

We still haven’t finished our conversation from yesterday. He came to bed really late last night and we curled into each other without even speaking. This morning, I’m not sure how to bring it up.

“Not right now… I'm going to need time to recover from _that_.” I shrug up at him in contrition.

He smiles and wraps an arm around my shoulders. “This will be good for them, you know.”

I raise an eyebrow. “How do you know?”

“Because loving someone is always good,” he says.

“Who said anything about love?” I ask. I’m smirking, though, because _of course_ he’d go there.

“No one… but I can sense these things.” He kisses the top of my head.

I have a feeling he might be right.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next few chapters have to do with the whole Jill scenario and how Scott feels... and especially how Chris helps her brother through it. Jaal plays a pivotal role too.
> 
> If you like this story, I'd love to hear from you. I really appreciate all the love it's gotten so far. :)


	8. Family Ties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris Ryder visits Jaal's sister's house and reveals a secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated E... or even M... it's not very hardcore... but it's cute.

* * *

* * *

Dear Scott,

Since you left the ship, Gil has become a sad sack of something. It’s kind of pitiful, actually… I only bring that up because I’d like to bury the hatchet… We didn’t get to talk before you went back to the Nexus, but I want you to know that I’m _happy_ for you. It’s a little weird—but I’m happy.

I’m actually heading out to spend some time with Jaal’s family. When they heard that the galaxy wasn’t in imminent danger, they insisted. Of course, I _tried_ to explain that ‘ _not in imminent danger_ ’ isn’t the same as ‘ _safe_ ’... but whatever.

I’m nervous to see his mother. She’ll want to know why we aren’t having babies yet. Putting aside the fact that we don’t even know _how_ that would work—if our genetics are compatible—I’m not a kid person. Remember how bad I was with the cousins? I basically encouraged them to play with sharp things at unsafe velocities.

...come to think of it… my entire _life_ includes sharp things and unsafe velocities. It’s no place for a kid.

Anyway, none of this has anything to do with you. I just wanted to say that I’m glad you’re happy with Gil and I hope you come back to visit the ship soon. We’re going to be back in the Eos area in a week or two. I hope you’re settling in well.

Love,

Chris

 

* * *

* * *

 

When we arrive on Havarl, it’s dark. Of course, it’s _always_ dark here, but it throws me every time. Jaal steps out in front of me. His foot squishes into some lush vegetation. This planet is also always _wet_.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“To my sister’s house,” he says. “Everyone else is already there.”

I can’t remember what he told me the occasion is this time. It’s always something: a nephew’s birthday, a cousin’s graduation, a sister’s wedding. To be fair, I _like_ them—all of them—but I don’t know exactly how to _be_.

“Who is _everyone_ this time?” I ask.

He smiles down at me. “Chris… You forgot why we’re here, didn’t you?”

I blush. “It’s been a busy couple weeks…”

He nods. “This is my littlest sister’s going away party.”

Now that he says it aloud, I can _sort of_ remember that. It’s strange—I remember almost everything he’s ever told me about the ship or our missions or his own life, but when he talks about his family, I can’t keep it straight. I’m starting to think I’m subconsciously avoiding it. Maybe some part of me is afraid that knowing his family intimately means I have to start doing _other things_ too.

“Where is she going again?” I ask. I try to make my face look cute so he won’t feel bad that I’ve forgotten.

“Don’t make that face at me,” he says.

“You caught me.”

He laughs and pulls me in for a kiss. “She’s going to study _you_ —your species—on Eos.”

“Oh.” I wish I’d remembered that. It’s applicable to my job as Pathfinder to know this kind of thing. “What is she studying?”

“Actually, she’s working with Gil’s friend Jill—on the repopulation effort,” he says.

That makes my stomach do a backflip. I’m keeping this secret for Gil—that Jill is having his baby—and I know he doesn’t want anyone else to know yet, but I’m dying to tell Jaal.

“That’s interesting,” I mumble.

He squints, but it’s transient. “Well… are you ready?”

I nod and we’re off.

 

* * *

 

That night, in one of his sister’s guest rooms, I’m feeling silly about dreading this event. We had a fantastic time. I stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror.

“Are you coming to bed?” he calls.

I poke my head around the corner. “Of course.” I cross the room in two steps and hop into the bed next to him.

“I like your sister’s house,” I say, cuddling into his side.

“Thank you. This was actually my house when I was growing up,” he says. “In fact, this was my bedroom.”

“Really?” I look around the room with new eyes. “You slept in this very bed?”

He smiles into each corner. “I did.”

We turn so we’re face to face. “Did you ever have _sex_ in it?”

He laughs. “Yes.”

That surprises me. “Really?”

“Yes—I wasn’t _celibate_ before I met you.”

“I assumed that… with whom did you have sex in this bed?” I ask. I push one of my knees between his thighs.

“A girl—do you want to hear the details?” He laughs.

“Yes.”

He wraps his arm around my waist and speaks in a low growl. “Are you sure?”

I nod.

“We were 20,” he begins.

“You still lived at home when you were 20?” I ask.

He rolls his eyes. We’ve talked about this before—Angarans aren’t quick to leave home. They revel in the family dynamics.

“Yes—until I was 22, actually,” he says.

“Okay, continue…” I smile and run my fingertips over the edge of his hip.

“Her name was Ryla,” he says. “We’d been seeing each other for the better part of a year before she stayed with me in this bed.”

I don’t like the sound of that as much—I want to hear about the sex, not the feelings. Why I expected him to tell me about sex _without_ feelings, I’m not sure.

“She ran her fingers along my spine and breathed into me,” he says.

“Okay, wait,” I interrupt. “Were you in love with her?”

“Of course,” he says.

Jealousy roils in my gut.

“Darling One…” He pushes me flat on my back and leans over me. “You’re the love of my life, but I _loved_ before you—with all the intensity I could muster at that time…” He kisses my forehead. “The fact that it wasn’t the depth of love I feel for _you_ is immaterial—it still mattered.”

I nod reluctantly. He’s so _reasonable_.

“Okay… so you had her in bed—what did you do to her?” I ask.

“Do you want me to tell you or show you?” he counters.

“Both.”

He smirks and trails a hand along the planes of my abdomen. I’m really lean right now—mostly from stress, but also because I take my exercise routine really seriously. His fingers dip between the striations of muscle.

“You are so perfectly formed,” he whispers.

I love how he loves me.

“So I pushed her back onto the bed and rubbed my palm along her chest,” he says. “Of course, she’s not shaped exactly like you are…” he almost laughs.

“Show me anyway,” I whisper.

He massages the edge of my waist and hip with his free hand while he hovers over me.

“She craned her neck to bite the skin of my chest,” he says.

“Ooh. Kinky,” I laugh. I do it, though. His skin is tougher than mine—my teeth barely even leave an indent, but I like it. He tastes like salt and smells like earth.

“It’s not kinky—it’s traditional,” he says.

“Traditional?”

“It’s the Angaran way… the teeth are an important part of it,” he says.

I cock my head to the side. “Really? Why didn’t you tell me that before?” I ask.

“You did not ask.”

“So where am I supposed to use my teeth on you?” I ask. “More importantly—where are you supposed to use them on _me_?” I raise an eyebrow.

He laughs and grinds his hips forward into me. “Everywhere you would normally kiss.”

My lips are relatively near his shoulder, so I take a chance and sink my teeth into his flesh.

He gasps.

“You like that?”

He nods.

“What else?” I breathe.

“Well… some of it, you can’t do…”  he says hesitantly. “You don’t have the anatomy.”

“Oh.”

“But you can do something—” he smiles.

“Anything.”

“Let me inside you.”

“That escalated quickly,” I laugh. “Is this how it went down with _whats-her-name_?”

He rolls his eyes. “Ryla… and yes…. Without all the talking, it was quite romantic.”

“I thought you _liked_ all the talking,” I pout.

He laughs again. We laugh all the time. I love it.

Despite all the teasing, I oblige him and spread my legs apart. He pushes into me easily. I guess I was more turned on than I thought. Before I know it, we’re in the swing of things—breathing and rocking in rhythm.

“Did you have sex like this?” I ask. My words are a little broken and stunted, but he gets the gist.

“Yes—and other ways.”

“What other ways?” I ask.

He stops moving and backs away. I miss that feeling of fullness instantly, but I follow him as he urges me up onto my knees and pulls me to straddle his lap. He wraps his arms around my back and thrusts into me. We’re so close that I feel like we’re one piece.

We come almost in tandem—me first, then him—and melt into the mattress, ready to sleep for a year.

 

Only, I _can’t_ sleep. Something wakes me up just an hour later.

“Jaal?” I whisper. I shake him until he blinks at me.

“What’s going on?” he asks. He was dead asleep.

“I’m sorry to wake you,” I say, flicking on the lights. “I need to talk to you.”

“Of course, Darling One,” he says. “But can we please do it in the dark?”

We smile at each other.

“Yes… I guess we can…”

I turn the lights off and settle back into my pillows. Face to face, my eyes adjust until I can see him in variable shadow.

“I have a secret,” I say.

He raises an eyebrow.

“...and I don’t _want_ to have it—it feels like a weight I can’t shake,” I add.

“Dearest,” he puts a hand on my cheek. “Is this a secret you’re keeping from _me_?” He looks so genuinely concerned, it almost interrupts my train of thought.

“Stars, no,” I wrap a leg over his hip and pull myself closer. “It’s about Gil… and Scott.”

“Oh,” he relaxes a little. “Are you _allowed_ to tell me what it is?”

“I doubt it, but I’m going to anyway.”

He smiles. “We are one heart—I won’t tell anyone.”

“I know.” I lean in to kiss him. The level of _supportive_ he’s being is making it hard to think straight.

“Gil is having a baby—with his friend Jill,” I explain, “but Scott doesn’t know… and they’ve been getting closer all the time…”

He nods. “I’ve noticed.”

“Well… Scott is my _brother_ —shouldn’t I tell him?”

Jaal looks pensive. Family is incredibly important to him, although he thinks of it differently than I do. “I didn’t know Gil was doing that. Why did he agree?” asks Jaal.

“Um…” I think about it. “I think he wanted to have kids and she is in charge of the repopulation initiative, as you know.”

“Does he love her?” Jaal asks.

“He’s gay,” I say blankly.

He laughs. It shakes his whole chest. “You are so binary… I _mean…_ does he _care_ for her. Are they close? Do they share a heart?”

I pick my head up to look at him. “Oh… I guess that _was_ a little reductionist…” We kiss. “Yeah… he loves her. She’s been there for him like nobody else.”

It occurs to me that I’m a little jealous of Jill. I have never been good at being anyone’s second-favorite, regardless of the relationship. I can tolerate sharing him with Scott because their relationship is _different_ , but isn’t Jill just a more established version of me?

“What was _that_?” asks Jaal.

“What was what?”

“That face you just made.” He runs a palm across my cheek. “What were you thinking?”

I feel myself blushing a little. He always does this to me. “I was thinking about how I stack up against Jill in the friend department.”

He smiles at me knowingly. “You don’t need to make comparisons. I think Gil is perfectly capable of loving both of you.”

“I know that… intellectually, speaking.”

Jaal nods. “Yes—it _is_ hard to separate our feelings from our thoughts.”

“So what should I do?” I ask.

He exhales in a long, slow breath. “This is not your place. Let Gil tell Scott in his own time.”

“What if he doesn’t?” I argue.

“Give him a little credit—he will.”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the calm before the storm. Hold onto your hats (and subscribe!)
> 
> <3


	9. Secrets - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four months later, secrets are finally revealed. It goes about as well as you'd expect. Chris is stressed. Jaal is the ever-present voice of reason.
> 
> \-------
> 
> Gil's POV returns between the double lines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated M: for the angst.

 

 

* * *

**Four Months Later**

 

In the morning, Jaal and I sit in the kitchen and wait for the rest of the crew to wake up. We’re both naturally early risers… and although a 24-hour day has little impact on our lives now, we have inborn rhythms we can’t seem to shake.

These last few months have passed happily. Right after that first time we dropped Scott off, he came back. He sleeps here most nights now. Gil is really nice to him—I’ve never liked one of his boyfriends so much.

Jaal and I are doing well too. We’ve been to visit his family a few more times and we finally finished our discussion of repopulation. He loves me—with or without little ones.

 

“Did you sleep okay?” he asks me.

I nod and smile. “I’m so much happier when you’re in bed with me when I wake up.” We’ve just come off of a couple weeks on our own. He was working on a rebuilding mission on Voeld while I was doing something not-strictly-legal with Reyes. _Whoops._

“Let’s try not to be half a galaxy apart for a while…” I suggest.

I’m about to kiss him with an _inappropriate_ amount of tongue, when I hear someone stomping toward us.

Gil comes around the corner toward me, walking fast. Jaal looks up. Arguably, Jaal is significantly more intuitive than I am, but I think we both feel Gil’s stress as soon as we see him. Honestly, _anyone_ would—it’s pouring off of him.

“Gil, are you okay?” I ask.

He looks around the room nervously. “Not even a little.”

“Okay… well… do you want to talk to me about it?” I ask.    

Gil sits down roughly. The metal chair scrapes across the floor.

“I will give you some privacy,” says Jaal. Some sort of reflex makes me want to grab for him, but he’s right. This is clearly a friend thing, not a friend-and-boyfriend thing, no matter how much Jaal and Gil like each other.

Jaal smiles again before he leaves. When I can’t hear his footsteps, I lean in.

“What’s happening?”

Gil pushes his fingers through his hair and tugs—kind of hard. “I told him—I told Scott… about the baby...”

 _Oh god_. I have been dreading something like this ever since they first got together. It’s tenuous because Gil is my best friend. I _want_ to be on his side, but being a twin is unique. I can _always_ see Scott’s side of things—whether or not he’s right.

I steel my expression. “Okay… what happened?”

Gil opens and closes his mouth a few times. He looks overwhelmed.

“Maybe you should start at the beginning?”

He nods.

 

* * *

* * *

 

It’s been four months—four _perfect_ months, filled with joy and happiness and maybe even something like love. He has wrestled with himself for long enough. It’s time to come clean. Gil knows he _has_ to tell Scott about the baby.

He paces back and forth through engineering. If it weren’t reinforced steel, he thinks he would be making a dent. In the months since Scott, the place is a lot cleaner. Gil has managed to clean up the piles of junk and he’s put some care into his bunk. He didn’t do it _for_ Scott specifically, but he did it because of him: Scott makes it easier to do everything.

He checks his watch a dozen times. Scott should be here any minute. They’ve been docked at the Nexus for the last hour—Scott said he just had a few things to do.

_Where is he?_

Just when he’s ready to get off the ship and search the Nexus deck by deck, he hears the engineering door swish open.

“Hi,” says Scott. He smiles. His easy countenance makes Gil’s hair stand on end.

“Hello,” says Gil.

Scott opens his arms toward Gil and folds him into his chest.

“I need to talk to you,” says Gil.

Scott pulls back enough to look Gil in the eye, but he doesn’t let go of his waist. “What’s up?”

“I think maybe you should sit…” Gil gestures to the bunk. They’ve spent so many days sitting and lying there together. It feels like a cocoon of safety... and he’s about to _ruin_ it.

“You’re making me kind of nervous,” laughs Scott.

“I’m sorry,” mumbles Gil. “...I have to tell you something.” He bites the inside of his cheek and tries to remember the words he rehearsed. They’re swirling through his brain like a sickness. He has to get them out.

“Okay…” Scott takes Gil’s hand in both of his. “Tell me.”

“I’m having a baby,” blurts Gil.

Scott drops his hand—like it’s on fire.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you earlier,” Gil sputters.

“ _Earlier_?” Scott gapes. “How long has this been going on? What are we even talking about?”

Gil looks down at the piece of mattress between them—it’s red and white. At one point, it was brilliant, but it’s worn now—moreso since Scott started sleeping in it too. It feels like a foil: _he’s_ worn. They can’t keep this up forever. Scott would be better off without him.

“My friend Jill wanted to have a baby…” he begins.

Scott looks at him unblinkingly.

“...for the repopulation effort, of course,” Gil continues. “—and I always wanted to have kids, actually. I really thought I’d be a good dad…”

Scott swallows through a visible grimace.

“So we agreed that we were going to have a baby—together,” Gil pauses. “It took… she’s already started her third trimester.”

Scott inhales a strangled sip of air. He looks like he’s on the verge of passing out.

“...and I wanted to tell you earlier, but I wasn’t sure this was anything yet,” Gil lies. He _knew_ they were something—he was just too scared and cowardly to say anything.

“Wow,” whispers Scott.

_Silence._

Gil tries to wait Scott out, but it proves too difficult. He scoots closer and tilts his head until he can look into Scott’s downturned face. “Wow?”

“Yeah… I don’t know what else to say, Gil.”

“Well… are you upset?” asks Gil.

Scott’s eyes widen. “I don’t know _what_ I am yet; I’m trying to process this.”

Gil nods.

“I mean,” Scott looks at a spot on the floor a few feet away and gestures to no one. “I never imagined a scenario where my boyfriend had a baby with someone else—that isn’t ideal…”

Gil shrinks in on himself.

“I always thought that _I’d_ have kids, actually,” continues Scott. “I didn’t know _how_ exactly, but I thought I’d work it out… I wanted to have a big family and live in the country somewhere and take them to visit Auntie Chris’ house. I wanted them to have grandparents and cousins,” explains Scott, his voice rising.

“...and I wanted them to _know_ me… and my partner… whoever that was,” he concludes.

Gil swallows audibly. “What are you _asking_ for, Scott?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “But I know that I can’t stand the idea of you having a baby with someone else. I… I _love_ you.”

They are at an impasse. Gil loves Scott—he’s said it to himself a hundred times—but he isn’t ready to _surrender_ like that. Besides, there’s nothing to be done—Jill’s due date is looming.         

Out of the myriad mental chatter one thing emerges: “You’re being childish,” says Gil.

Scott looks wounded.

“This isn’t about you _at all_.” Gil starts to pace. “This is about the survival of our species…”

Scott looks skeptical, which Gil finds infuriating. He doubles down: over-correcting to make a point.

“And honestly, Scott,” says Gil. “You’re _just_ my boyfriend. Jill has been there for me through _lots_ of people like you—they always leave eventually. _She’s_ the only one who has stuck by me.”

_Silence._

Eventually, Scott speaks. “If this is what you want…” he looks up at Gil for the first time. His expression is hard to read.

Gil swallows. “I do.”

“Fine.” Scott stands up and starts walking toward the door. Gil chases him and grabs his forearm.

“Where are you going?”

“I need to be alone for a little while…” Scott rips his hand free and leaves without looking back.

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

“And so that’s where we left off…” he says sadly.

“Stars, Gil,” I breathe. “What the _hell_?”

I want to start yelling. He’s talking about _my_ brother, who seems to have done nothing wrong in this scenario, but I try to hold it together long enough to hear any potential mitigating factors.

“I know,” he says. “I totally fucked everything up.”

“Well, at least you _know_ that…” I run a hand over my face and take a deep breath. “Okay… so what’s your plan here? Are you going to call Jill first or go talk to Scott?”

His eyes snap up to mine suddenly. “What do you mean call Jill?”

I squint at him. “To tell her you need to make Scott feel comfortable? To tell her he’s going to be involved?”

Gil stands. “I should have known you’d take his side…” He’s mumbling—not really talking to me, but to the small, scared Gil of his subconscious who thinks everyone is out to get him.

“I’m not taking his _side_ , Gil.” I stand and put an arm out to touch him. He backs away, though. “Gil…” I start again, “He’s just hurt and scared and he _loves_ you.”

“Well, maybe I don’t love him,” he says. It’s final. There is no arguing with his tone.

“Fine.”

He nods and turns to leave. He looks angrier than I’ve ever seen him. A part of me wants to reach out and grab him—force him to stay here and listen to me express Scott’s feelings _for_ him—but I know that isn’t really going to solve anything, so I let him go.

 

The second I can, I climb the ladder and burst through the doors of Jaal’s workshop. He’s tinkering with something at his station.

“I take it _that_ went well,” he deadpans.

I growl and flop down onto his cot. “Horrendous…” I stare up at the ceiling unblinkingly.

He leans over me and smiles. “What happened?”

“You know how Gil agreed to have a baby with Jill?” I begin. I scoot over against the wall and pat the bed so he’ll curl in next to me.

He obliges and wraps an arm around my back. “I do.”

“Well, Gil told Scott about it—finally.”

“That’s good—I told you he would,” says Jaal.

“Yeah… well…” I clear my throat. “Scott isn’t okay with it—I don’t think he’s ever going to be, either…”

“Why?”

I know _exactly_ why. Scott and I have always been able to understand each other even without speaking directly.

“Because Scott _loves_ Gil,” I explain. “...and he wants to raise children _with_ him.”

“Can they _not_ do that?” asks Jaal.

“Well…” I clear my throat. “I mean… I guess… they could have someone be a surrogate or something… no one is really putting their kids up for adoption here in Andromeda.”

“So why don’t they _do_ that?” Jaal continues.

“I suppose they could… That isn’t really the _issue_ here, though,” I explain. “Gil decided unilaterally to have a baby with Jill… he has no plans to have _additional_ children… with Scott or otherwise.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Well… _no_ …” I acquiesce.

“You need to _ask_ him. All these things you’re saying to me would serve you better if you asked _him_ ,” says Jaal. “In fact, it would be better if you asked him and Scott at the same time.”

“You want me to handle this _out in the open_?” I almost laugh. He’s predictable in his expectations. I’m getting used to it and it has certainly served us well in our relationship, but making two _other_ people do it when they’re already angry and hurt seems like a tall order.

“At least find Scott and ask him what he’s feeling,” suggests Jaal. “And then apologize to Gil.”

“For what?”

“For whatever insensitive thing you said,” laughs Jaal.

He knows me too well.

“I _had_ to defend Scott.” I shrug against his chest. “He’s my brother.”

“I know.”

I sit up. He lets his hands drift to either side of my waist.

“Wish me luck?” I ask.

“You don’t need it, Darling One.”        

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is sort of a cliffhanger of an ending... so I won't make you wait long for part 2. Leave me some love while you're here. :)


	10. Secrets - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gil and Scott get some closure, but it isn't what either of them hoped for. Chris goes to Jaal for advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gil's perspective after the double lines, as per usual. :)

* * *

I go through the next several hours in a haze. I want to talk to Gil and Scott right away, on Jaal’s recommendation, but—of course—there’s a priority one message from Eos. It’s some shit that doesn’t even matter, as it turns out, but it requires several vidcom calls and more than a few headaches. By the time I’m done, I’m exhausted and raw.

“Oh,” I stop short on my way past the kitchen. “Hey, Gil. I was just about to come see you.”

He looks up at me from some kind of a haze. He looks even worse than when I saw him a few hours ago.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

He sips from the edge of his mug. “I talked to Scott,” he says.

“ _Oh_.” I pull a chair in close to him and sit. “How did it go?”

“Not well.”

I nod. “What did he say?”

“He told me that it wasn’t what he imagined for his life,” answers Gil. “Which is reasonable—it isn’t what I imagined either.”

“And?”

“And then he left. He can’t see me anymore.” Gil slumps back in his chair and closes his eyes.

“Do you want to talk about how _you_ feel?” I ask.

“No.”

“Okay. Then let me get you some more coffee-sludge and we’ll sit here together,” I offer. I stand and fill our mugs. I may not know exactly what he’s going through, but I love him and I love Scott, and I want to help them both—if I can. No sooner have I formed that though, then the door behind me opens and in tumbles my brother.

“Hey, Scott,” I say. I want to dash for the exit, but I can’t get around him.

He barely acknowledges me. He looks around me at Gil, who has risen slightly in his chair. He’s looking up with liquid eyes.

“I’ll just give you guys a second…” I mumble, inching toward the door.

“Don’t,” says Scott. He holds up a hand to me. “I’ll just be a minute.”

I lean against the counter and try to channel invisibility.

“Gil?” Scott crosses the little room and sits in my chair across from Gil. “I’m sorry for how I reacted. I should have realized that wasn’t easy for you to tell me…”

Gil smiles hopefully.

“...and if this is what you want, then of course I’d never stand in your way…” adds Scott. “I just can’t stand _with_ you… but I hope you’re happy, Gil. Really.”

Gil sinks back into the chair.

On his way out of the room, Scott motions for me to walk with him.

Despite what Scott said, I can’t help but think this isn’t the end. Everything might still be okay...

 

Except it _isn’t_ —not even close.

“Hey,” Scott pulls me aside. “Did you _know_ about this?”

_Shit._

I don’t think lying will help. I nod.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath and pushes a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry, Scott—”

He raises his palm to me. “Save it.”

“I just didn’t think it was _my_ secret to tell, Scott,” I argue. “Besides, I thought Gil would tell you long before now.”

Scott looks at me pointedly. “ _I_ would have thought that too… but whatever—now I know where we stand.”

“What does _that_ mean?” I ask.

“I’m just the guy he fucks… and it’s fine—I never told him I wanted anything else,” says Scott.

I want to argue with him. I know—for a fact—that isn’t how Gil feels, but I don’t know how to do it in a way he’ll understand. He’s _hurting_. I let the silence stretch until his breathing evens out. I remember doing this when we were little kids too—he’s the kinder of the two of us, but he’s also more likely to panic. I take care of him in situations like this.

“You’re sure this is the right choice… breaking up?” I ask.

He looks up at me. “Of course it is. I can’t _stay_ with him after this.” Then he laughs humorlessly. “How _pathetic_ would that be?”

I shake my head, “Scott—this is a special circumstance; it’s _complicated_.”

He rolls his eyes. “The way he handled this made his feelings perfectly clear; we’re done.”

We stare at each other sadly.

“I’ve got to get out of here…” He starts to walk away from me.

“Scott,” I call after him.

“Please, Chris—I just need some time.” 

 

* * *

 

“Jaal?” I call around the corner. It’s not late, but I think he must be back in my bedroom already. I can’t find him anywhere else.

“Yes, Darling One?” He sits up in bed and turns a light on dimly.

“I’m so glad you’re here…” I sigh and strip my clothes off haphazardly before crawling into bed next to him. We end up sitting cross legged knee-to-knee. “Everything is a mess.”

“What happened?” he asks me.

“Scott left… he told Gil he won’t stand in his way, but he can’t stay with him while he does this…” I explain.

“Really?” Jaal looks surprised.

“Yeah… I’m actually pretty surprised too…” I admit. “I mean… It’s not like Gil can change his mind at this point… Jill’s been pregnant for months—since before Scott and Gil met.”

Jaal nods.

“...and I mean… I know that Scott feels like they should have kids together—”

“He does?” interrupts Jaal.

I nod. “I think so… I know he wants kids and I know he loves Gil… I think he was picturing their lives together already.... In a little house on Eos…”

“Why can’t that fantasy exist with Gil’s baby? Why can’t they _all_ do that together?” asks Jaal.

 _Why, indeed_?

“We’re just not as evolved as you are…” I shrug and sigh.

“No…” He smiles. “Your customs just aren’t the same…” He wraps his arms around me and pulls me until I’m sitting in his lap.

I let my fingers drift over his shoulders and upper back. “I think your way would be better…” I mumble “But anyway… Scott doesn’t have that in him ...and… more than that, I think he feels betrayed—Gil effectively lied to him for months.”

“A lie by omission,” corrects Jaal.

“Either way… he wasn’t exactly forthcoming.”

Jaal nods.

“So… what should I do?” I ask.

He looks into my eyes. It’s relatively dark in the room, but I can tell he’s about to say something insightful. He does that at all the right times. “There is nothing you can do. The only thing that will solve this is time… and there is no person powerful enough to speed it up—even a pathfinder.”

“I love you, Jaal.”

“I love you too, Darling One.”

 

* * *

 

**Two Months Later**

 

Dear Scott,

 

Things have been tenuous since you left the Tempest. I know you don’t want to hear this, but Gil is a mess without you. He’s getting sloppy, actually. He didn’t repair the Nomad properly the other day and I almost _died_ in a pool of acid. Seriously, Scott—he’s in trouble.

Of course, I’m not implying that you should forgive him or that you have to accept this decision of his, but I _do_ think you should at least talk to him… his baby is due any day now. I realize that’s the last thing you want to hear about, but he’s scared—he could really use someone who _gets_ him… someone in his corner.

Anyway… I realize I’m biased because I love him… but remember that I also love _you_.

 

Be Well,

Chris

* * *

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

This is the moment Gil has been preparing himself for—the culmination of nine months of incubation and a fair amount of heartache. _Everything_ is about to change—even more than it already has. He has given up a lot in his life: in coming to Andromeda, he gave up his family and friends in the Milky Way; in taking this post on the Tempest, he gave up any chance at a stress-free existence, and, most recently, he chose fatherhood and effectively gave up Scott. It doesn’t feel like a mistake, exactly—he _wants_ to be a father; he _wants_ to support Jill—but a tiny voice in the recesses of his subconscious keeps telling him he’s given up something he can’t get back.

 

This is the day that his choices come to fruition. It’s time to face the future. It’s time to be brave...  _He just can’t remember where his bag is_. He dashes through engineering, overturning boxes and rifling through piles of scrap. He knows it’s around here _somewhere_.

“Gil!” shouts Chris. She’s at the threshold, looking horrified. “What are you doing!?”

Gil looks up at her, bewildered. That’s when he sees it: his bag. It was right next to the door the whole time.

“I’m coming…” he grabs the bag and rushes to catch her.

Chris stops running in the middle of the hallway. Gil almost runs into her—he has to jump out of the way.

“ _What_?” he shouts.

She puts her hand to her ear, listening; her face grows pale.

“ _What!_?” repeats Gil.

She shakes her head.

The moment stretches. Years of reading nonverbal cues kick in and Gil knows—something is _horribly_ wrong. He grabs Chris’ shoulders and looks down into her face.

“What is it?” he breathes.

She gapes.

“The baby?”

She shakes her head again. “No. _It’s Jill_.”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has stuck with me this long... we've just got a few chapters before the end... and everything needs to get worse before it gets better. 
> 
> <3 to everyone!


	11. Hospital

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris and Gil make it to the hospital. Everything falls apart ... and then into place.
> 
> Chris' perspective above the double lines, Gil's perspective below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBH, this chapter is my favorite one of the story so far... it has a lot of heart... but it's a bit of a tearjerker. Get your tissues ready. :)

* * *

Hospitals have a strange kind of energy. I’ve always dreaded them. Today, I think that this outpost medical bay on Eos is the worst one I’ve ever visited. It could be because I’m here on the worst day of my best friend’s life, though. Well… worst and best.

“That’s her,” he whispers. We’re looking through a double-thick anti-contamination glass pane, but I’m still nervous.

“She’s so _little_.” It’s a stupid thing to say, but I have basically no experience with babies.

Gil has tears in his eyes.

I wrap my arm around his back. “She’s beautiful… I’m so _sorry_ , Gil…”

He leans his head on top of mine. He doesn’t say anything, but I feel like I’m the only thing in the world holding him up.

“Do you want to go see her?” I ask.

Gil backs up so he can see me. He nods and wipes his sleeve across his cheeks.

“Okay—let’s go.”

His baby—Meri—is really cute up close. She coos and grabs onto his fingers. She has a shock of red hair atop her head, and his permanent tan. In fact, there’s very little of Jill in her. In some ways, I think that’s a blessing. He doesn’t have to be reminded—that the best friend he ever had is gone.

 

Jaal arrives a few minutes later.  I meet him in the corridor outside. “Hello, Darling One,” he says to me. “I got here as soon as I could—how are you?”

I smile. “I’m okay… Gil is having a hard time—as you can imagine.”

He looks at me grimly. “I understand. One of my sisters died in childbirth. It is a hole in our family that we will never be able to fill… but her baby reminds us of her every day.”

He’s trying to be sweet, but that sentiment makes me shiver. If I know Gil at all—which I _do_ —that’s the last thing he needs to hear right now. He’s not even ready to say Jill’s name. When we first arrived, the doctors asked if he wanted to see her—to say goodbye. He just shook his head—not even a word.

“Where is he?” asks Jaal.

“He’s in the nursery with Meri…” I smile up at him. “Do you want to see them?”

He nods and steps around me down the hallway. I’m about to turn and follow him when someone else comes running down the corridor. It’s _Scott_.

He has so much momentum, he has to grab onto my forearms to slow down.

“What are you doing here?” I ask. I find myself whispering, although I’m not sure why.

“I came as soon as I heard…”

“You _heard_?”

He nods. “Is he okay?”

I shake my head. “Of course he isn’t…”

“I’ve got to find him.” He looks down the hallway desperately and tries to take off. I grab onto him to pull him back.

“Wait. What are you going to _say_?”

He shrugs. “I haven’t gotten that far…”

“Well, he’s with his baby… his _daughter…_ ”

We stare at each other. I’m trying to use some kind of twin-telepathy to express how careful he needs to be when he sees Gil—he’s going to be fragile.

“Chris,” Scott lets out a big breath. “I need to tell him I _love_ him…”

Despite the shit we’ve been through in the last hour, I find myself smiling. Ever since Jaal, I’m a sucker for love—it’s terrible really, he’s ruined me.

“Is that true?” I ask.

He rolls his eyes. “Of course it’s true—I’m not going to lie about that…”

“Well… he’s going to think it’s the adversity of the situation getting to you—he’s going to be skeptical,” I explain.

“I know…”

We stare at each other silently. It occurs to me that I’m explaining Gil’s feelings the same way I would normally explain Scott’s—like I have _another_ twin.

“Thanks, Chris.” He leans down to hug me. “You’re really the best sister in the whole galaxy.”

“I’m your only sister in the whole galaxy…”

He laughs and shrugs, despite everything.

“Go get him.” I smile.

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

Fatherhood is strange so far. Gil has never felt so unprepared and simultaneously _responsible_. Even in the best of circumstances, a child depends on her father for support—for safety and love and knowledge… but in _this_ circumstance, which is anything but perfect, she’s going to depend on him for _everything_.

He runs a finger along her cheek. The skin is soft and smooth. She isn’t at all wrinkly or gangly. She’s full and chubby, with sparkling eyes and shocking red hair. He loves her already. He loves her like he didn’t know was possible.

She coos—like a dove back on earth. Not that it’s a sound he’s heard often, but his mind conjures visions of fountains and fluttering white wings.

“Hello, Little Dove,” he whispers.

She blinks at him—something like understanding flickering behind her eyes. It’s mad because he knows she can’t see him—her eyes won’t learn to focus for another several weeks… _and yet_ …

“Gil?” says a voice.

Gil turns to look. He feels a smile pulling at the edges of his mouth—he thinks it’s might be permanent from now on _until_ … he sees who’s standing there: Scott.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, expression turning to stone.

“Gil…”

Scott crosses the room and reaches out. His hand lands on Gil’s shoulder, but Gil feels numb. He can only concentrate on the warm weight of his daughter, resting in his arms.

“Gil, I was wrong to leave,” he says.

“What?” Gil blinks.

“I should never have left,” repeats Scott. “I was hurt and raw and I made a mistake…”

Gil starts to shake his head. He’s going to tell Scott to leave—to get away from him and his daughter… his Little Dove.

...but Scott won’t be interrupted. “Gil, I love you.”

_What?_

“I know you don’t believe me,” says Scott. “I can see your mind spinning already—telling you I’m full of shit—” he pauses and looks at Meri apologetically—as if she’ll know the difference between a common word and an expletive. “...but I’m _not_. I love you—and I have since almost the moment we met.”

Gil swallows hard.

“...and you’ve been through something today—something I’ll never really understand…” continues Scott. “But you don’t have to go through it alone—not while I’m standing here... _loving_ you.”

Meri starts to fuss. Gil looks down at her in horror—he’s never been around a baby in distress before, much less his own.

“Shhh,” he rocks and bounces on his heels. “It’s okay, Little Dove… Daddy’s here…”

She won’t stop crying, though. A voice in his mind insists this is the beginning of the end. She’s about to combust in his arms. After all, life is _fragile_. This day has proved that more clearly than any other dangerous mission he’s ever been on. _Jill is gone_. This baby’s mother… is gone. The weight of his loss hits him suddenly—falls like a ton of bricks. For a second, he thinks he’ll fall, but he won’t let it happen—not with Meri in his arms. Instead, he pulls her in tighter, the intention in his hands strong enough to hold both of them up. Then he looks up at Scott.

“Jill’s gone,” he says.

“I know.”

“...and I’m alone,” adds Gil. “...and I don’t know how to _do_ this.” He hears his voice break. “I don’t even know where to begin…”

“You’re not... _alone_ ,” Scott reaches out—one hand on Gil’s shoulder and one on Meri’s cheek. The moment he touches her, she looks up, no longer crying. It’s a moment Gil thinks he’ll remember until he’s old. It’s a moment in which _everything_ changes.

“I love you too,” Gil whispers. It’s the second time he’s said that today and he means it just as much. His whole life, he’s been an island. Today, he found himself on continental shores. And it’s Scott—Scott’s the one who helped him find his way.

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. We've got just a bit more to go....


	12. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5 years later, Chris and Jaal are attending a birthday party.

5 YEARS LATER

* * *

 

“What are you doing?” I croak.

Jaal is near the foot of the bed, rustling around in the dark. He laughs when he looks at me.

“Trying to find the gifts we wrapped for Meri,” he says.

I’m exhausted, but he’s smiling at me so adorably, I can’t stay mad. I sit up and let the covers fall to my waist. I watch his eyes tick to my chest and back up again. It’s just a second, but it’s enough that it still feels like he wants me—after all these years.

“They’re down in the cargo hold,” I tell him.

He rolls his eyes. “What are they doing there?”

“I kept kicking them every time I got up in the dark…”

Because of a long-haul survey mission we’re on, we sleep in shifts. In my attempts to not wake him up, I’ve become accustomed to haunting our quarters in the wee hours of the morning.

“Come here,” I say.

He crawls to me across the bedspread and cups my face in his hand.

“Are you excited to see them?” I ask.

“Of course—seeing family is one of the great joys of life,” he answers.

 _Typical_.

“I mean them _specifically_ —are you happy to see Gil and Scott and Meri?” I ask.

“Yes. They’re my family now too.”

He pushes me backward and kisses my neck. “Besides, I get to sleep in a normal bed—not on a ship—with you.”

I laugh. “I love you, Jaal.”

“I love you too, Darling One.”

 

* * *

 

Even after all this time, I still drink that coffee-substitute-sludge stuff. It’s not even because I _have_ to. After this many years, botanists have concocted a really good facsimile of coffee on this side of the universe… but I think I got used to the sludge back when Gil was here. Every time I drink it now, it reminds me that I have a best friend out there…

This morning is no exception.

After Jaal fucks me into the mattress, I take a quick shower and step out into the hallway like my world _wasn’t_ just rocked. Around the corner, I find Peebee and Lexi sucking face—don’t get too excited, I see that every day… all that bluster melted into something squishy and disgustingly cute. They wave to me peripherally as I pass.

The sludge is on a timer, so it’s already hot and bubbling sickeningly when I get there. It looks kind of like a tiny lava pit. I know none of this sounds appetizing, but I promise, it’s one of those things that’s too terrible _not_ to be great.

I sit down with the steaming cup and close my eyes. I’m going to be super sore tomorrow—I can tell. It’s a type of secret I like to carry with me all day—a reminder of how close I am to one other person. It’s amazing—I feel more strongly about him every day.

“Ryder, there’s a call for you. Shall I patch it through to your private channel?” asks SAM.

“Go ahead, SAM.”

“Hi,” says Gil.

I smile when I hear his voice. Someone’s laughing in the background—probably my brother. They’re the best couple I know—well… besides Jaal and me.

“Are you almost here?” he asks.

I look down at my watch. “Probably another couple hours.”

He sighs. “Meri is getting impatient. _Five_ is a big birthday.”

“I know that.” I laugh. “How’s my brother?”

“Happy…highly satisfied, actually,” he laughs.

“Gross. Are you trying to kill me?”

We laugh and sigh. Then there’s some rustling.

“Scott wants to talk to you,” he says.

“Okay.”

“Hey, Chrissy,” he says.  “Listen… I wanted to ask you something—are you alone?” From the background noise I can tell he’s walking away from wherever Gil is.

“Of course—what’s up?”

“So… Meri is five…” he begins.

“—yeah, I know that…” I tease.

He laughs, but not hard. I can tell something is wrong from his tone.

“Yeah… well…” he sucks in a breath. “She’s starting to ask… about what happened to her mother.”

_Oh._

“...and we aren’t exactly sure what to say…” continues Scott. “I mean, we’ve always told her that her mother loved her very much and that she was a great person…”

“—but you don’t know how to add that she’s dead…” I finish the thought for him.

He hums.

“Well, Scott,” I clear my throat. “I don’t envy your position. I mean… this is huge…”

“Tell me about it…”

“But listen… Meri has two amazing parents who love her like crazy, right?” I say. “I mean… you and Gil are the absolute best…”

He makes a sound like he’s blushing.

“...so she’ll never need anything that she doesn’t get,” I add. “And I think it would be fair to tell her that her mother would have given her everything too—but she gave her the biggest gift of all…”

Scott sighs again.

“I mean… Scott, she couldn’t have _picked_ a better parent for this… you know what she’ll feel like,” I say. “When we lost mom I thought I’d never recover… but, Scott—we did.”

“But she never even got to know her…” says Scott sadly.

“I know… and that’s terrible. But Scott, she has _you_.”

I think he might be crying.

“You’re right… as usual…” he manages.

We both laugh, even though I can imagine he has tears in his eyes.

“Don’t tell Gil I said that—he’ll never let me live it down,” he adds.

“It will be our secret… I love you, Scott.”

“I love you too.”

* * *

 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to take a second to thank everyone SO much for all the lovely comments, kudos, messages, and recs. This story was for you!
> 
> Be sure to subscribe to my pseud for future pieces. In terms of MEA, I'm working on a new story for a rare pair: Gil/Reyes. I also have several DA projects in the works. 
> 
> Please reach out to me on tumblr or twitter @ponticle. I'd love to talk about story ideas or just freak out about bioware games. :) 
> 
> <3


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